A man walks in front of a ship that crushes the ice behind him. It's a silent film that was projected in Times Square c/o Creative Time, boasting an impossible relationship that could go on forever.
We know about artists utilizing space in their work, and exhibition spaces becoming the work, but here the artist transplants one space into another. As ubiquitous as white walls and fluorescent lighting are (even neon work), Rungjang evokes the variance permitted by the more inescapable and less blatant: different suppliers, opacity, shade, lifespan, casing, and so on.
Huyghe concaved a 20 cm gouge in a gallery wall, exposing its exhibition history in successive layers of paint. I'd like to do this on a heavily tagged wall.
Golia disappeared for three weeks -- he left New York and turned up in Copenhagen without leaving a trace in between. The culmination of his project is a series of handwoven blankets acting as the only record of his ventures. The human need for solitude is inferred by Golia's stint, but even better, his obscurity is a dare to abandon conventions and concretize chance.
Using waste from a local dump, Greenfort built a lure for foxes he'd seen in the area. As the foxes took the sausage bait, it triggered a camera to catch the act. After a week of this, the foxes learned how to take the sausage without being photographed.
From coco- to pea- to something irrecognizably smaller, various nuts are halved, strung, and hung in descending order. "The Sound of a Wild Horse Galloping into the Distance" echoes the quest for the Holy Grail in Monty Python's 1975 film. The visual of this stand-in for sound unwittingly alludes to the film's low budget and crew's solution to actual horse riding, though creating a stand-in with just one type of nut.