{"id":9474,"date":"2014-09-20T07:33:00","date_gmt":"2014-09-20T07:33:00","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/works.raqsmediacollective.net\/?p=9474"},"modified":"2025-06-25T09:08:49","modified_gmt":"2025-06-25T09:08:49","slug":"asamayavali-untimely-calendar","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/works.raqsmediacollective.net\/index.php\/2014\/09\/20\/asamayavali-untimely-calendar\/9474","title":{"rendered":"Asamayavali\/Untimely Calendar"},"content":{"rendered":"\n
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Asamayavali\/Untimely Calendar
Solo Exhibition
National Gallery of Modern Art (NGMA), New Delhi (2014)<\/strong><\/em><\/p>\n<\/div>\n\n\n\n

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Media rich, concept driven, formally multi-faceted, playful, urgent, replete with philosophical density \u2013 this is the kind of art that addresses all our faculties \u2013 intellectual, emotional and sensory. A visitor to this exhibition is invited to be a witness, to see himself and herself become a protagonist in a rich field of ideas, dream-like images, of \u2018luminous wills\u2019. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

Time \u2013 how to survive it, and how to embrace what Raqs call the \u2018untimely\u2019- is central to this show. Walking through \u2018Asmayavali\/Untimely Calendar\u2019, and browsing through this publication that accompanies it, will feel like a journey through stories, dreams, puzzles and enigmas. The viewer\/reader\/listener encounters animals, machines, time-pieces, spectres, and things that unmake and reassemble all that we take for granted.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

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Also See: With An Untimely Calendar (Book)<\/a><\/div>\n<\/div>\n\n\n\n
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D\u00fcrer is Innocent <\/strong><\/em><\/span><\/a><\/p>\n\n\n\n

Billboard, digital printing on steel
5\u2019 x 3\u20196\u201d<\/em><\/p>\n<\/div>\n\n\n\n

Albrecht D\u00fcrer came across rumors of the Indian rhinoceros named Gainda sometime in 1515 that he would immortalize in his woodcut, Rhinoceros<\/em>. Gainda the rhinoceros, far from his native habitat in the grasslands of Gujarat (where no rhinoceroses remains today), was sadly lost at sea while being transported, in time, from Lisbon to the Vatican.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

In the 16th century, the king of Malabar gifted a rhinoceros to the king of Portugal. This rhinoceros travelled all the way to Portugal and, upon arrival, the Portuguese king decided to gift the rhinoceros to his cousin, the Pope. The rhinoceros was shipped out from Lisbon to Rome, but was shipwrecked and lost at sea. Years later, and with no rhinoceros in Europe, Albrecht D\u00fcrer \u2013 Northern Renaissance painter, engraver, printmaker, mathematician, and theorist from Nuremberg \u2013 was commissioned to make a piece about this story. D\u00fcrer, who had never seen a rhinoceros, immortalised the rhinoceros in his woodcut titled \u2018Rhinoceros\u2019. A ghost of our time in the future and the echo of times past in today, Gainda the rhinoceros appears often in Raqs\u2019 works.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Iterations shown at: Gulbenkian Gardens, Lisbon (2011) | Yorkshire Sculptural Park, United Kingdom (2011) | Performa 13, New York (2013) | Museo CA2M, Madrid (2014) | University Museum of Contemporary Art (MUAC),\u00a0Mexico\u00a0City (2015) | Royal West of England Academy, Bristol (2018)<\/strong><\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n

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Corrections to the First Draft of History <\/strong><\/em><\/span><\/a><\/p>\n\n\n\n

Newsprint, chalkboard paint and chalk
Dimensions variable<\/em><\/p>\n<\/div>\n\n\n\n

In 1850, a man called Peary Churn Sarkar wrote up a primer for Bengalis to learn English with. He called it, \u2018The First Book of Reading\u2019. It was a textbook, a lexicon, an almanac, an enchiridion. With it, pupils learnt to read English, word by word, aloud at first, and then silently. With a new primer comes a new world, and a new time. Being a witness to history is to consider the transformation of what is happening into what is no longer happening. It is to see the world turn spectral before our eyes. Corrections to the First Draft of History<\/em> \u2018rewrites\u2019 on newsprint of the world so as to speak of making new sets of meanings for what is considered history in our present times. Journalists writing for newspapers are told that they are writing the first draft of history \u2013 it is time to look again at what gets narrated as History.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Iterations shown at: Frith\u00a0Street Gallery, London (2014) | K21, D\u00fcsseldorf (2018)\u00a0<\/strong><\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n

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Three Meetings That May Have Happened, Underwater or Mid-Air<\/strong><\/em><\/span><\/a><\/p>\n\n\n\n

Wallpaper, cutouts of brushed steel, glass, photographs, documents
Dimensions variable<\/em><\/p>\n<\/div>\n\n\n\n

A robot tumbles forth from the future, a deep sea diver dives into the abyss of doubt, a bicycle wheel turns the inevitable away, cacti count to infinity, a rhinoceros transgresses histories while a fabled swan discriminates (as they are supposed to) between the ocean of history and the nectar of possibilities, and the Yaksha and the Yakshi look on, caught mid-sentence, in the loop of another riddle. A telegram is on its way. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

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The Kd Vyas Correspondence, Vol.1<\/strong><\/em><\/span><\/a><\/p>\n\n\n\n

Installation with 18 video screens, DVD players, steel frame structure, audio<\/em><\/em><\/p>\n<\/div>\n\n\n\n

The KD Vyas Correspondence Vol. 1 <\/em>is an installation that embodies an epistolary enigma. The basis of this work are a set of eighteen \u2018letters\u2019 between Raqs and a person or entity who is identified as K.D. Vyas, sometime redactor of the Mahabharata.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The installation manifesting the \u2018correspondence\u2019 brings together eighteen video enigmas that could be an abbreviated contemporary concordance to the eighteen cantos of the Mahabharata: densely encrypted messages, annotations to the letters themselves, or memories of places and times where they may have been read – once, twice or an infinite number of times.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The work involves video, sound, a dossier and a dialogue with the architects Nikolaus Hirsch and Michel Muller that results in a structure, \u2018The Node House\u2019, which holds the images and sounds, hovering like the disembodied memory of an instance of the epic\u2019s hyperlinked incantation.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Iterations shown at: Museum of Communication, Frankfurt (2006) | Thyssen- Bornemisza Art Contemporary, Vienna (2007) | Kunstmuseum Bern, Bern (2007- 08) <\/strong><\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n

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One Meter of Truth (Emotion)<\/strong><\/em><\/span><\/a><\/p>\n\n\n\n

Steel table with wooden top, printed canvas
58\u201dx 58\u201d, 1m steel measure<\/em><\/p>\n<\/div>\n\n\n\n

During a rehearsal process for a work being made with theatre artists, Raqs began to seek a language for states of feeling, and the body, that were at a tangent to the way in which a standard repertoire of emotions are described. They were drawn to a 10th century manual for poets and performers by Abhinavagupta, philosopher and aesthetician from early medieval Kashmir. Abhinavagupta proposes a scheme for combining emotional and bodily states to produce a cascading series of affective registers that the actor can play with. Through this work, Raqs enters into the territory of things that we know, but defy classification as new sensations are created by bringing unexpected things together. This work can be seen as an annotation that lists one of those sets of un-recognised possibilities: states of being and feeling so fleeting, so real and so enigmatic, that a whole new vocabulary has to be invented even to begin talking about it.
One meter of truth seeks to challenge this new classification itself: can even these suffice?<\/p>\n\n\n\n

One Meter of Truth (Emotion) is a recension of \u201836 Planes of Emotion\u2019 exhibited at  \u2018Asamayavali\/Untimely Calendar\u2019, National Gallery of Modern Art (2014).<\/strong><\/em><\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n

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The Museum of Lost Constellations<\/strong><\/em><\/a><\/p>\n\n\n\n

Objects, photographs, printed text
Dimensions variable<\/em><\/p>\n<\/div>\n\n\n\n

Constellations are a way in which we make sense of the sky. Perhaps they are the first images made by human beings. Not necessarily by hand, but with the mind; while looking up at the sky. Translated into patterns and pictures found in the primitive night that are with us till today. The map of the sky is a palimpsest. Some patterns fade, others lurk and hide within and beneath other patterns. It is this process of fading, hiding and lurking that gives rise to the phenomenon of \u2018Lost Constellations\u2019. These are constellations fallen into disuse or gone into the exile of astronomical amnesia.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The Museum of Lost Constellations<\/em> is an attempt to recover thirteen of them into memory through a set of objects that recall the names and lore connected to each lost constellation. It is sited by Raqs Media Collective within the historical observatory of the Stockholm Observatory Museum. The objects themselves are neither tagged, nor named. Matching their presence to the descriptions of the lost constellations in this text is the only way a visitor can construct for themselves a map of a fragment of forgotten sky.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Iteration shown at: The Observatory Museum,  Bonniers Konsthall, Stockholm, Sweden (2013) <\/em><\/strong><\/p>\n\n\n\n

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Asankh\/Countless<\/strong><\/em><\/a><\/p>\n\n\n\n

Digital Print on ACP, acrylic
6 x 4 ft.<\/em><\/p>\n<\/div>\n\n\n\n

The material infinitude that makes up the real world, Raqs argues, is a swirling, entangled mass of vital, corporeal wills to live and exist actualised as forms of matter and sentience. Infinity has room for everyone. It contains the uncountable. With this claim on abundance, ideas of countable limitations are challenged. Instead, Raqs gesture towards a joyous, radical countless-ness. What is, multiplies.  <\/p>\n\n\n\n

Iteration shown at: Performa 13 , New York (2013)<\/em><\/strong><\/p>\n\n\n\n

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The Capital of Accumulation<\/strong><\/em><\/a><\/p>\n\n\n\n

Video diptych
Duration, 50′<\/em><\/p>\n<\/div>\n\n\n\n

The Capital of Accumulation<\/em> is a video installation that writes an oblique narrative of the relationship between metropolises and the world in counterpoint to Rosa Luxemburg\u2019s exceptional critique of global political economy, \u2018The Accumulation of Capital\u2019.
The work, a 50 minute long video diptych, trawls through a haunting, dream like landscape straddling Warsaw, Berlin and Bombay\/Mumbai to produce a riff on cities, capitalism and the twentieth century\u2019s turbulent history. Part natural history, part detective journal, part forensic analysis, part cosmopolitan urban investigation, and part philosophical dialogue- The Capital of Accumulation<\/em> offers a considered and personal reflection on the remaining possibilities for radical renewal in our times.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Iterations shown at: Hebbel Am Ufer, Berlin (2010) | Museum of Modern Art, Warsaw (2010) | Project 88, Mumbai (2010) | Manifesta 9, Genk, Belgium (2012) | Centro de Arte Dos de Mayos (CA2M), Madrid (2014) | Museo Universitario Arte Contemporaneo, Mexico (2015) |Fundacion PROA, Buenos Aires (2015)<\/strong><\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n

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Whenever the Heart Skips a Beat <\/strong><\/em><\/a><\/p>\n\n\n\n

Billboards
8 x 8 ft.<\/em><\/p>\n<\/div>\n\n\n\n

Whenever the Heart Skips a Beat<\/em> is an animation presenting a clock-face with changing word couplings \u2013  instead of numbers \u2013 in order to reference the passing of hours. The words are an array of adjectives and nouns that qualify each other, flying across the face of the clock, arranging and rearranging themselves, producing constant permutations and combinations of states of mind and being through the actions of the hour and minute hands that join two words at different points of time.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The lexical patterns produced by this process register a deeply felt, subjective experience of time and duration. This work grows out of Raqs\u2019 sustained preoccupation with time and with the metaphorical possibilities of horology. It annotates their earlier experiment with clocks, feelings and words \u2013 Escapement.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Iterations shown at: Brimingham (2012) | The Whitworth, Manchester (2017)| K21, Museum of 21st Century Art, D\u00fcsseldorf (2018)<\/strong><\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n

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It’s About Being Here Here and There at the Same Time<\/strong><\/em><\/a><\/p>\n\n\n\n

Wall, three metals<\/em><\/p>\n<\/div>\n\n\n\n

Three metallic strips \u2013 brass, copper and steel\u2013 make a possible \u2018doorway\u2019 to another place, another time, and configure a possibility of being simultaneously inside and outside. Edges converse, lines travel across dimensions, definitions outdo each other.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Iteration shown at: Project 88, India Art Fair (2012)<\/strong><\/em><\/p>\n\n\n

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The Ghost is Here Again <\/strong><\/em><\/a><\/p>\n\n\n\n

Video Wallpaper<\/em><\/p>\n<\/div>\n\n\n\n

The ghost is here again<\/em> to be neither witness, nor agent, not even provocateur, to be perhaps just a haunting laugh through time. To bundle sentience and turn on the electric wavelengths of interconnected metabolic surges coursing through the shared inhabitation of a wet planet wandering through a big, crowded sky: That is what the surge is.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Iteration shown at: Kunstverein Braunschweig, Germany\u00a0(2021)<\/strong><\/em><\/p>\n\n\n

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The Untold Intimacy of Digits\u00a0<\/strong><\/em><\/a><\/p>\n\n\n\n

Animation, archival trace, video loop
Duration, 47″<\/em><\/p>\n<\/div>\n\n\n\n

In every sum figured by power, a remainder haunts the calculation. Not everything adds up. A people are never equal to a listing of their bodies. They are something more and something less than a population. Counting counter to the reasons of state, Raj Konai, a peasant from nineteenth century Bengal, the owner of the floating trace of a disembodied hand indexed in a distant archive, persists in his arithmetic. The handprint of Raj Konai was taken in 1858 under the orders of William Herschel \u2013 scientist, statistician, and at the time, a revenue official with the Bengal government. It was sent by Herschel to Francis Galton, a London eugenicist and pioneer of identification technologies. It is currently in the custody of the Francis Galton Collection of the University College of London. This is where the Raqs collective first encountered the image of Raj Konai\u2019s hand. Fingerprinting experiments, and later technologies, all began with this handprint. India has now embarked on a nationwide Unique Identification Database (UID) and plans to have its billion soon counted and indexed.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Iterations shown at: Lalit Kala Akademi, New Delhi (2011)| Art Gallery of York University, Toronto (2011) | Museum fur Moderne Kunst (MMK), Frankfurt (2012) | K21, Museum of 21st Century Art<\/em><\/em>, D\u00fcsseldorf (2018)<\/em><\/strong><\/p>\n\n\n\n

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The Imposter in the Waiting Room<\/strong><\/em><\/a><\/p>\n\n\n\n

Video, performance
19 ft x 32 in<\/em><\/p>\n<\/div>\n\n\n\n

The Impostor in the Waiting Room<\/em> is a consideration on what happens when modernity encounters its shadow. As a group of practitioners who navigate routes in and out of modernity, its past, present and future, on a daily basis in Delhi – the city where we live, and in the course of our travels elsewhere, we have come to realise that the world is densely encrusted with \u2018waiting rooms\u2019 – spaces for transients to catch their breath as they prepare for the arduous ascent to the high promontory of modernity.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The image of the \u201cwaiting room\u201d gestures towards the sense of incompleteness and elsewhereness that fills those spaces of the world about which the overriding judgment is that they are insufficiently modern \u2013 that they are merely patchy, inadequate copies of \u2018somewhere else\u2019. Such waiting rooms exist in the very heart of that \u2018somewhere else\u2019 \u2013 in New York and Los Angeles, in London and Singapore \u2013 but it is outside these islands that they have their truest extent. Most of the world, in fact, inhabits such antechambers of modernity. We know such antechambers well; we are at home in them, everywhere.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Waiting Rooms everywhere are full of Impostors waiting to be auditioned, waiting to be verified, waiting to know and to see whether or not their \u2018act\u2019 passes muster, and whether they can cross the threshold and arrive on to the plane where \u2018history is truly made\u2019. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

Iteration shown at: Bose Pacia Gallery, New York (2004)<\/strong><\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n

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\u201cThe impostor can speak more than one kind of truth; he can turn more than one face to the monocle of power. Faced with an enquiry, the impostor\u2019s mask is also a momentary means to breathe easy, to breathe life into an exhausted story about who is who, and who is not. The intensification of scrutiny can sometimes be met with an amplification of guile. Once a tale is told, antecedents produced, a face justified, a door can then be opened and passage granted. The impostor picks up a valise. The journey can now proceed.\u201d <\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n

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The Great Bare Mat App<\/strong><\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n

App<\/em><\/p>\n<\/div>\n\n\n\n

This app weaves together images from the works produced by Raqs for the exhibition, The Great Bare Mat and Constellation<\/a>, objects from the Isabella Stewart Gardner Museum’s historic collection, stories fragments from interviews of Raqs by Pieranna Cavalchini (Curator, Contemporary Art, ISGM), texts on and from the work, notes on some objects in the collection, and excerpts from a series of conversations with a musician, a curator, artists, a teacher, a philosopher, an architect, a conservator, a neurologist, and more, curated by Raqs at the museum around the questions – Where Does Nostalgia Take Us? What Does Intelligence Do For Us? What Does Accumulation Do To Us? Why Does Music Move Us?<\/p>\n\n\n\n

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Equinox<\/strong><\/em><\/a><\/p>\n\n\n\n

Cutouts, animation, video loop<\/em><\/p>\n<\/div>\n\n\n\n

A carnival: an autumnal solstice celebration of all that is animate and alive. Horses lose their heads, fish leave their shadows, Diana, the goddess of the hunt is in pursuit of roaring lions and worried dogs and stolid cattle and merry birds and golden dragons.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Equinox<\/em> is made by Raqs in response to the collection at the Isabella Stewart Gardner Museum, Boston. The video plays on the sense of the night coming alive with animal forms, and echoes their experience during a flashlight midnight tour of the museum where they sensed a different animatedness in the objects of the collection. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

Part of \u2018The Great Bare Mat & Constellation\u2019, Isabella Stewart Gardner Museum, Boston (2013)| Iterations shown at: The Whitworth, Manchester (2017)| K21, Museum of 21st Century Art<\/strong><\/em><\/em><\/strong>, D\u00fcsseldorf (2018)<\/em><\/strong><\/strong><\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n

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Diagram for the Last International<\/strong><\/em><\/a><\/p>\n\n\n\n

Video Loop<\/em><\/p>\n<\/div>\n\n\n\n

In 2011-12, while thinking about weaving disparate processes, interests and possibilities of all kinds together, Raqs invited Suraj Rai, a self-taught computer programmer, to create a snapshot of their working and thinking together. Suraj plotted the signal traffic between the three Raqs computers while they sat together in their studio on a typical Delhi afternoon. The snapshot pattern of a moment of the traffic and intercourse between their computers evoked a picture of their world, and of them in the world. A speculative meshwork emerged.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Iteration shown at: Performa Festival, New York (2013)<\/strong><\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n

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Re-Run<\/strong><\/em><\/a><\/span><\/p>\n\n\n\n

Looped video
Duration, 7’48”<\/em><\/em><\/p>\n<\/div>\n\n\n\n

Henri Cartier-Bresson took a photograph of a bank run in Shanghai in December 1948: A crowd of people desperate to get their money out of a bank in anticipation of an imminent collapse of the value of money in the lead up to the take-over of Shanghai by the People\u2019s Liberation Army. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

Every bank-run is propelled on the currents of a self-fulfilling prophecy: As people lose confidence in the value of money, they begin withdrawing money from banks which leads to a collapse of a bank\u2019s worth; panic spreads between banks. And so, cause becomes effect becomes cause. The anticipation of the future produces conditions in the present that lead to the anticipated future. Time folds in on itself like a snake biting its own tail.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

In revisiting and re-staging Cartier Bresson\u2019s photograph in Shanghai, Raqs meet the conditions of the self-fulfilling prophecy invoked by the event captured in the original image. Cartier-Bresson\u2019s decisive moment breaks its banks and seeks the custody of other hands. Mid-wived by other eyes and cameras, the image reincarnates as its own breathing and vivid clone, close to where we are today. The memory of one moment of crisis is transposed onto the reading of another. Time folds in on itself, again.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Iterations shown at: Chronus Art Center, Shanghai (2013) | K21, Museum of 21st Century Art, D\u00fcsseldorf (2018)<\/em><\/strong><\/p>\n\n\n

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A Day in the Life of Kiribati<\/strong><\/a><\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n

Clock, nameplate, tape<\/em><\/p>\n<\/div>\n\n\n\n

The history of clock-making saw a definite turn when devices for understanding time shifted away from the fluid principles of ancient Chinese water and incense clocks \u2013 for which time was a continuum, thus making it more difficult to surgically separate past and present. In contrast, modern clocks, with their precise ticking seconds, impose rigid separations, creating conceptual barriers between moments. This disjunction makes \u201cnow\u201d feel distant from \u201cthen\u201d and yet, paradoxically, connects disparate places under a shared measure of time. In a syncopated sort of way, we are contemporaneous with other times and spaces<\/p>\n\n\n\n

In this syncopated simultaneity, the clock becomes a symbol of both concurrence and dissonance. While London and Lagos may share the same time, their experiences of \u201cnow\u201d diverge, shaped by local contexts and histories.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

A Day in the Life of Kiribati<\/em> gives the time of Kiribati, the first land on Earth to switch the calendar over to 2000, and which could be the first place on this planet to disappear with rising sea levels because of global warming. Here, timekeeping becomes both a marker of continuity and a reminder of impermanence.<\/p>\n\n\n

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Will You, Beloved Stranger<\/strong><\/em><\/a><\/p>\n\n\n\n

Structures, paper, sound, gold wall paint, video (43 ft)<\/em><\/p>\n<\/div>\n\n\n\n

Will you, Beloved Stranger?<\/em> is a performance piece for two readers in a designed setting featuring a rendition of two bodies of poetic work \u2014 those of the Israeli poet Yehuda Amichai (writing in Hebrew) and the Palestinian poet Mahmoud Darwish (writing in Arabic). This work parses these two bodies of text in English to create a continuous stream. A fragment taken from one set of poems (say, Darwish) is followed by fragment of another (say, Amichai). The act of continuous reading emphasizes the difficulty of the absent conversation it straddles. This new miscegnated rescension of a fragmentary Amichai-Darwish corpus has been incised as perforation on to translucent sheets of paper in Hebrew and Arabic and displayed on structures and frames designed by Efrat-Kowalsky Architects in consultation with Raqs. In this instance, the two readers are a native Hebrew speaker and a native Arabic speaker.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

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Dislocation of Degree Zero<\/strong><\/em><\/a><\/p>\n\n\n\n

Looped Video<\/em><\/p>\n<\/div>\n\n\n\n

In the present world, ever since the adoption of Greenwich Mean Time, the system of longitudes beginning and ending at an arbitrarily decided degree zero located at the Greenwich Observatory near London creates a notional global central axis and degrees of peripherality. This convention is based on an arbitrary decision that indexed Great Britain\u2019s power during the nineteenth century, but in truth, the location of the prime meridian could be anywhere at all. One could, for instance take any point in the Arabian desert, draw a line and declare it to be a prime meridian, insisting that the periphery of the desert is now a new centre of the world. It is a matter of drawing, erasing, and re-drawing, almost as a repetitive compulsion – lines in the sand.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

In this exhibition, the video is projected on sculptures of Yaksha and Yakshi, made with Rahul Kumar. | Iteration Shown at: Sharjah Biennial 11, Sharjah, United Arab Emirates (2013)<\/em><\/strong><\/p>\n\n\n\n

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5 Pieces of Evidence<\/em><\/strong><\/a><\/span><\/p>\n\n\n\n

Installation with 5 video screens, audio, and steel armature<\/em><\/p>\n<\/div>\n\n\n\n

5 Pieces of Evidence <\/em>reflects on missing persons, urban myths, transitoriness, maps, and global networks. The five screens are narratively organized along the lines of a \u201cwhodunit.\u201d Missing persons notices, street maps, demographic statistics, and images of pipelines, rail tracks, harbours, and city- scapes evoke a multi-layered set of speculations on the way urban spaces stage everyday \u201cdisappearances.\u201d <\/p>\n\n\n\n

Iterations shown at: Venice Biennale (2003)| Ogaki Biennale (2006)| Awarded Honorary Mention at Prix Ars Electronica (2007)<\/em><\/strong><\/p>\n\n\n\n