Within squaring peepholes, formally framed. Metallic shelves jut from, mask, each face. Unaware of time, all measures and structures fade away. The major clash is between irony and escapism. Irony as a way of twisting reality, as a way to lash out almost, in anger.
Escapism is displacement, to displace from the known so that everything becomes an intoxication.
The new, the exotic, the sublime. The nose bags, yes I first got that idea while discussing Althusser, Lacan or somebody equally incomprehensible to me. Here we had this ideal structure and this idealized convention of interaction, but in actual fact, what I really noticed was everybody sniffing everybody else's pheromones and having little power plays. And that' s where I got the idea for the piece. You know, I watched people's feet twiddling, and I watched people sniffing other people. . .