Rosette, (2022)

Multi Media Site-Specific Installation

Rosette is a German colloquialism that translates to “sphincter”. A project born out of an emotive response to Putin’s declaration of war to Ukraine in February 2022. With the pandemic and it’s restriction partly still in place, political power play and the sudden real possibility of the war extending over Europe washed away the core belief of countries sharing the interest in peace we were lucky enough to fall for in the 90’s.

On a personal Level, to not be able to see my family in Germany due to Covid 19 - immediately followed up by the then acute fear of the war extending to Germany - witnessing how my grandmother was struggling to handle the PTSD being reminded of her childhood during WWII - and the silence I experienced within the art school regarding these changes - resulted in frustration and anger. Anger about the powerlessness I felt. Anger about white old men in powerful positions and their relentless greed. Anger about the racism within the so called “humanitarian aid response”- sector as seen in Germany where all of a sudden afghan refugees were sent back to their country in order to make space for Ukrainian war refugees. Why? Because of their skin colour and religion.

It was also the time where the silent acceptance of openly racist comments in the public, grew in Germany. Everyone felt hard done by, struggling with the political non-existent leadership and their flippant changes in handling the pandemic . Globally, people experienced a new disruptive insuperable disunion: those, who centred their frustration around the impact of the Covid restrictions and Vaccine requirements on their personal freedom - and the ones who prioritised the health of All over their own Level of comfort.

I decided to transform an exhibition space in the art school. I created an entrance which was making it uneasy to access by cinching in pale fabric as a gate or entrance to the space. Once that hurdle was taken, the audience member was confronted with the fact that they were trapped in a narrow box, only allowing a couple of audience members to share the experience simultaneously. Restricted in movement and sensual input, one could only look out of the slots cut into the wood, referencing animal transport trucks in shape and position. To the right one could see the flickering lights of a TV, reflected on a meat-dish hung up on the wall. Accompanied by two sets of strung, black zip ties, the triptych was lit in yellow. The TV showed a loop of the Russian Victory Day Parade of 2022, including the sound of this masterpiece of Russian propaganda.

When looking out to the left, the audience saw a fragmented version of themselves, dis-morphed by darkness and haziness of the mirrors provided. If one decided to walk to the end of the narrow box, and look out the front, one saw a projection of a slide showing a scene of a well situated living room from the sixties, with a couple peacefully sitting on their couch.