I always feel the necessity of leaving something in my work which could be experienced as present beyond the body of space.
A narrow yellow slit admits visitors to a passageway. The walls of the passageway are padded with foam and covered in yellow fabric. There is no outlet on the other end and the passage grows narrower. Midway is a distorted window that peers into a well-lit room. The only objects in the room are a bed frame that appears to float, and a mirror that reflects the viewer’s image. The total gallery space is divided by the passageway. One side of the space is living, the other is dead. The only way to see the living – or risen – side is to squeeze down the passageway. On the other side – the dead side – a steel bed is sunk beneath the lattice floor. Steel panels cover the length of the passageway.
The reality of the imagination can change the dimensions of space and move its frontiers.
This possibility has become an obsession with me and it has affected the direction of my explorations.
That is why there appear motives in particular realizations, in different places and spaces, which escape out of the door, windows, or into the void of the wall.
I always feel the necessity of leaving something in my work which could be experienced as present beyond the body of space.