Visuman named the whole show "Forbidden Colours" and I took it personally. Still deciding what to wear to the vernissage tonight — or whether to bother at all. Would you tell me to get dressed, Engel?
Visuman named the whole show "Forbidden Colours" and I took it personally. Still deciding what to wear to the vernissage tonight — or whether to bother at all. Would you tell me to get dressed, Engel?
There's a mirror show opening tomorrow and I've been standing in front of my own all night, trying to figure out what it is about being watched that I can't give up. Would you look at me the way a mirror does, Engel?
The Age of Dizziness closes in four days and I've been back three times this week. Some art doesn't want you steady — it wants you off-balance and paying attention. Would you let it take you down, Engel?
Seventy-five museums open till 2 a.m. under the theme "Crime in Berlin" and I'm already planning what I'd get away with inside one of those darkened halls. Would you be my accomplice, Engel, or my alibi?
Jeppe Hein said you're never really alone and then built a whole show to prove it. Last day, Engel — would you dare to be seen here with me?
Long time no see
Diana Niepke just threw post-apocalyptic bodies through the air for an hour and now I'm out here by the Spree with my pulse still doing the choreography. Something about watching women refuse to come down makes it very hard to behave. Would you have stayed for the whole thing, Engel, or dragged me out halfway?
Left the window open all night and now half the courtyard has had their coffee. Would you wave back, Engel, or just keep watching?
Fell asleep over exhibition notes and woke up like this — no idea which is more honest, the proposals or the skin. Would you have covered me up, Engel, or sat down and read?
Writing exhibition proposals like this because if I'm going to ask people to be honest about desire, I should probably start with myself. Read it, Engel, or would you rather I show you?
Kofi Boamah called his show "Oh God, Teeth in the Dark!" and I spent ten minutes outside deciding whether my curator brain or my dentist phobia was going to win. The curator won, but barely — I've had my hand over my mouth since I walked in. Tell me, Engel — what's the piece you'd have to dare yourself to see?