London

A man dressed in white jeans and a white-orange tracksuit laboriously covers the distance of the long white brick in Schauspielhaus Wien. He moves between exerting careful control of his body, evidently informed of years of professional training, and letting go, surrendering to inertia and gravity. A hand hanging down, the back looking for the solidity of the wall, the head in need of support. The movements glitch into fleeting loops. The sound-collage of advertisements, film recordings and club music melts into a free floating amalgam of meanings and unstable horizons, eliciting nostalgia, desire, and bittersweet joy. What remains is the longing after those ephemeral states of affect, which are quick to disappear back into the messy pool of subconscious manifestations and societal crisis, ...