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Intro

In her sculp­tures Alice Chan­ner (*1977, Ox­ford, UK, lives and works in Lon­don) ex­plores the re­la­tion­ship between ma­ter­i­als, bod­ies, ma­chines and in­dus­tri­al or tech­no­lo­gic­al pro-cesses. With rel­ish, she com­bines her highly in­dus­tri­al­ised ob­jects with human ges­tures or with nat­ur­al traces such as phys­ic­al or geo­lo­gic­al re­mains.

The ex­hib­i­tion Heavy Metals / Silk Cut spans across the two build­ings of the Kun­st­mu­seum and the Kun­sthalle Ap­pen­zell. It fea­tures new works, in­clud­ing an ar­chi­tec­tur­al in­ter­ven­tion, com­ple­men­ted by an over­view of sculp­tures, draw­ings and in­stall­a­tions from the last dec­ade.

In her ex­plor­a­tions of ma­ter­i­als and pro­cesses, Alice Chan­ner casts and bends metals or folds fab­rics, draws with ci­gar­ette ash and mani­fests the hid­den di­men­sions of the world of mat­ter. She of­fers a per­spect­ive on what lies bey­ond the cat­egor­ies and as­sump­tions that shape our per­cep­tion of ob­jects and our re­la­tion­ship to them. Chan­ner­’s works con­sist of geo­lo­gic­al and nat­ur­al ma­ter­i­als or rep­res­ent­a­tions of nat­ur­al ele­ments, such as shells, fin­gers or stones. The artist trans­forms these in pro­found, syn­thet­ic pro­cesses, often in pro­fes­sion­al man­u­fac­tur­ing fa­cil­it­ies that have noth­ing to do with the pro­duc­tion of art, such as factor­ies for paint coat­ing or the chem­ic­al in­dustry. She had, for ex­ample, the shells of spider crabs and brown crabs va­cu­um-met­al­lised, al­low­ing the au­then­t­ic phys­ic­al­ity of these ob­jects to col­lide with the res­ult of identic­al, rhythmic and mech­an­ic­al work­ing steps. In­dus­tri­al meth­ods of pro­duc­tion, such as the pre­ci­sion en­gin­eer­ing of CNC milling to shape alu­mini­um into the de­sired form or cou­ture tech­niques to fold im­ages of geo­lo­gic­al lay­ers in heavy crêpe de Chine, are con­stitutive of form. Chan­ner re­lent­lessly jux­ta­poses the or­gan­ic and the ar­ti­fi­cial, the bio­lo­gic­al and the in­dus­tri­al, weav­ing the traces of pro­duc­tion pro­cesses into the lan­guage of her sculp­tures. She not only con­fronts her artist­ic sig­na­ture with the cold aes­thet­ics of mech­an­ic­al shap­ing, but also points to the fra­gil­ity of the eco­logy with these se­duct­ive yet fra­gile exo­skel­et­ons.

Kunstmuseum: Room 1

Starship (Super Heavy), 2022 / 

machined limestone, lost-wax cast and mirror-polished aluminium, chromed, vapour-blasted, machined and sand-cast aluminium, accordion pleated crepe satin silk, laser-cut and mirror-polished stainless steel /
135 × 135 × 5 cm; 120 × 120 × 9 cm; 130 × 130 × 11 cm /
Photo: Fred Dott

Starship (Super Heavy), 2022 /

machined limestone, lost-wax cast and mirror-polished aluminium, chromed, vapour-blasted, machined and sand-cast aluminium, accordion pleated crepe satin silk, laser-cut and mirror-polished stainless steel /

135 × 135 × 5 cm; 120 × 120 × 9 cm; 130 × 130 × 11 cm /

Photo: Fred Dott

The disk-shaped sculp­ture en­titled Star­ship (Super Heavy) (2022) is made of Port­land stone quar­ried on the Jur­as­sic Coast in Dor­set, Eng­land. Their por­ous sur­faces bear the traces of fossils of an­cient sea creatures. Shiny alu­mini­um has been cast in some of the in­dent­a­tions left by the spear­head-shaped im­prints of tower snails, while red crepe satin has been ac­cor­di­on fol­ded into one of three round re­cesses and am­mon­ites made of alu­mini­um placed in two oth­ers. Like rel­ics of liv­ing be­ings that have sur­vived geo­lo­gic­al time, these con­trast­ing frag­ments join to­geth­er to form a uni­fied whole. The work mixes dif­fer­ent ma­ter­i­als, both nat­ur­al and human-made. Or­gan­isms can be seen here that have bon­ded with lime­stone over mil­lions of years, but at the same time the artist also cre­ates a link to the syn­thet­ic and in­dus­tri­al pro­cesses that have gone into mak­ing the red fab­ric.

The sculp­ture sug­gests vari­ous as­so­ci­ations. The title al­ludes to the major SpaceX rock­et pro­ject, ini­ti­ated by Elon Musk with the goal of en­abling the col­on­isa­tion of an­oth­er plan­et, and hence calls to mind the po­ten­tial of life bey­ond Earth, which would trans­form our concept of cor­por­eal­ity in terms of both time and space as well as mat­ter. The ma­ter­i­al of lime­stone in turn points to geo­lo­gic­al time, tak­ing us back to the past life of fossils, traces of which can still be found in nu­mer­ous build­ings in Cent­ral Lon­don. The crepe satin al­ludes them­at­ic­ally to the pro­duc­tion pro­cesses in­volved in mak­ing syn­thet­ic products as well as to the fash­ion in­dustry. The com­plex­ity of human in­ter­ven­tion in the bio­lo­gic­al, geo­lo­gic­al and at­mo­spher­ic pro­cesses on Earth has thus been ver­it­ably in­scribed in the ma­ter­i­al­isa­tion of the sculp­ture Star­ship (Super Heavy).

Room 2

Crustacean Satellites, 2018 /

Vacuum-metallized spider crab (Maja brachydactyla) and brown crab (Cancer pagurus) shells on stainless steel jigs, PVC-coated steel cables, fixings /
450 × 105 × 110 cm /
Photo: Stuart Whipps

Crustacean Satellites, 2018 /

Vacuum-metallized spider crab (Maja brachydactyla) and brown crab (Cancer pagurus) shells on stainless steel jigs, PVC-coated steel cables, fixings /

450 × 105 × 110 cm /

Photo: Stuart Whipps

Many of the artist’s works focus on geo­lo­gic­al and nat­ur­al ma­ter­i­als or the rep­res­ent­a­tion of nat­ur­al ele­ments such as sea­shells or stones. She trans­forms these com­pon­ents using elab­or­ate syn­thet­ic pro­cesses, in most cases in pro­fes­sion­al or in­dus­tri­al pro­duc­tion plants. Crus­ta­cean Satel­lites (2018) con­sists of va­cu­um-met­al­lised and lacquered spider and brown crabs. Al­though the in­di­vidu­al pieces are the res­ult of identic­al, rhythmic and mech­an­ic­al in­dus­tri­al pro­duc­tion steps, the traces left by human hands are non­ethe­less vis­ible. 

Alice Chan­ner­’s works al­ways in­cor­por­ate the pres­ence of their maker. This is not ne­ces­sar­ily the artist her­self, how­ever, but may in­stead be the fact­ory em­ploy­ees in­volved in the fab­ric­a­tion pro­cess. In this work, the artist con­trasts emo­tion with ma­chine pro­duc­tion, jux­ta­pos­ing at eye level the pre­cious exo­skel­et­ons with the sus­pen­sion devices used at the pro­duc­tion plant. We are in­vited to dis­cov­er in this way cer­tain spots in the highly in­dus­tri­al­ised ob­jects where the nat­ur­al struc­tures have been left un­touched, as though they might be ac­ci­dent­al, human ges­tures, or per­haps phys­ic­al or geo­lo­gic­al re­mains.

Room 3 and 9

Rockpool, 2022 /
Two tonnes of coarse salt, extracted from the Mojave Desert, hand-curved, powder-coated and lacquered steel / 
20 m × 6.43 m × 20 cm /
Courtesy the artist and High Desert Test Sides /
Photo: Sarah Lyon

Rockpool, 2022 /

Two tonnes of coarse salt, extracted from the Mojave Desert, hand-curved, powder-coated and lacquered steel /

20 m × 6.43 m × 20 cm /

Courtesy the artist and High Desert Test Sides /

Photo: Sarah Lyon

The artist works with a sur­pris­ing vari­ety of ma­ter­i­als, tex­tures and tech­niques. Her works con­trast strongly in terms of their lustre and soft­ness or hard­ness, their tex­ture and col­our, their nat­ur­al­ness or ar­ti­fi­ci­al­ity. Pro­duced es­pe­cially for Chan­ner­’s solo ex­hib­i­tion in Ap­pen­zell, Rock­pool (2023) is a ho­ri­zont­al sculp­ture that sprawls across two rooms at the Kun­st­mu­seum, sep­ar­ated by a wall and a pas­sage­way. 

Rock­pool is a pro­voc­at­ively arti-ficial sculp­ture. Its title re­calls wa­tery tidal pools by the sea, but this pool is dried up and filled with salt. The artist ref­er­ences here the ex­trac­tion of rock salt from the Swiss moun­tains that sur­round us, gen­er­at­ing a product just like a fact­ory does, but she also evokes dried-up bod­ies of water and oceans. The pur­ity of the salt stands in con­trast to the shape of the sculp­ture, which is based on a satel­lite image of an oil spill. In the Brit­ish Pet­ro­leum Deep­wa­ter Ho­ri­zon oil spill in 2010, 134 mil­lion gal­lons of oil leaked into the Gulf of Mex­ico, con­tam­in­at­ing 1 300 miles of coast­line. In­stead of filling the work with a black oil-like sub­stance, how­ever, Chan­ner fur­nishes it with bright white salt. By unit­ing two ap­par­ently un­re­lated in­vents in one sculp­ture the artist chal­lenges our per­cep­tion. 

The sculp­ture on view in the ex­hib­i­tion was pre­ceded by an out­door ver­sion. Rock­pool (2022) was part of the pro­ject High Desert Test Sites 2022: The Search­ers (Group), Mo­jave Desert, South­ern Cali­for­nia, USA, 16 April–29 May 2022.

Room 4

Burial, 2016 /

Cast aluminium bronze, cast concrete, cast Corten steel / Dimensionen variabel / variable dimensions /
Photo: Aurélien Mole

Burial, 2016 /

Cast aluminium bronze, cast concrete, cast Corten steel / Dimensionen variabel / variable dimensions /

Photo: Aurélien Mole

Buri­al (2016) con­sists of var­ied to-scale ver­sions of a lump of con­crete Chan­ner found near her stu­dio in East Lon­don, a dis­trict where con­struc­tion and de­moli­tion work is the order of the day. She had the lump 3D scanned and elong­ated using a com­puter pro­gram. The ridges on the res­ult­ing ob­jects are the marks left by a ro­bot­ic arm used to mill the shapes from a foam block. These forms seem oddly or­gan­ic, their sur­faces re­min­is­cent of rock form­a­tions that have been eroded by the move­ment of water over thou­sands of years. And yet the sculp­tures are the product of tech­no­lo­gic­al and in­dus­tri­al pro­cesses. They are made of cast alu­mini­um bronze and Corten steel. As sug­ges­ted by the title and by the shape of the rocks, which are sim­il­ar in size to the human body, they refer to the fi­nite nature of human life, call­ing to mind sar­co­phagi.

Room 5

Linear Bivalves (Quintuple Green) (Detail), 2018 /
Vacuum-metallized and lacquered mussel shells on custom jigs / 484 × 260.3 × 7 cm /
Photo: Roman März

Linear Bivalves (Quintuple Green) (Detail), 2018 /

Vacuum-metallized and lacquered mussel shells on custom jigs / 484 × 260.3 × 7 cm /

Photo: Roman März

Lin­ear Bi­valves (quin­tuple green) (2018) is a wall-based work com­pris­ing thirty ver­tic­al rec­ti­lin­ear bars to which mus­sel shells are clipped ho­ri­zont­ally at reg­u­lar in­ter­vals, like ordered leaves on a branch. The bars are in­stalled in two rows, in groups of three; in each group, the first two ‘branches’ are met­al­lised in sil­ver, the third in green. This gives the work a rhythmic vi­bra­tion as one reads across it, like a scan­ner read­ing a bar­code. There is an ab­surd hu­mour in Chan­ner­’s at­tempt to in­dus­tri­ally coat these or­gan­ic forms that still bear traces of their sea life. And there is some­thing sin­is­ter in the glitzy fin­ish and re­gi­men­ted present­a­tion of the piece that be­lies its fest­ive im­pres­sion.”

Room 6

Birthing Pool, 2019 /
Accordion pleated high-tech lamé, accordion pleated polyester satin, accordion pleated “women ladies animal leopard snake PU PVC wet look shiny legging fashion pant new”, accordion pleated “sexy ladies high waist wet look skinny leather leggings pants trousers black”, mirror-polished stainless steel, pelletised and recycled HDPE /
372 × 172 × 8.5 cm / Installation: variable dimensions /

Photo: Tim Bowditch

Birthing Pool, 2019 /

Accordion pleated high-tech lamé, accordion pleated polyester satin, accordion pleated “women ladies animal leopard snake PU PVC wet look shiny legging fashion pant new”, accordion pleated “sexy ladies high waist wet look skinny leather leggings pants trousers black”, mirror-polished stainless steel, pelletised and recycled HDPE /

372 × 172 × 8.5 cm / Installation: variable dimensions /

Photo: Tim Bowditch

At the end of the build­ing we come upon an elong­ated ho­ri­zont­al sculp­ture: Birth­ing Pool (2019). The gal­lery floor is filled with black pel­lets made from re­cycled HDPE, a pet­ro­leum-de­rived poly­mer and a ubi­quit­ous raw ma­ter­i­al used in a wide vari­ety of products from plastic bags to chil­dren’s toys, as well as by the auto­mot­ive and cos­met­ics in­dus­tries. View­ers step right into the pel­let bath, where they can then sit down and blend in with the ma­ter­i­al. The pel­lets, which are meant to gradu­ally lit­ter the ad­join­ing room in the course of the ex­hib­i­tion, feel sur­pris­ingly pleas­ant to the touch with their cool­ing prop­er­ties, des­pite re­call­ing plastic waste.

Set amidst the pel­lets are elong­ated stain­less steel con­tain­ers dis­play­ing cloud-like shapes into which tex­tiles have been layered and fol­ded, form­ing loops and re­pe­ti­tions. The volume of the ver­tic­ally em­bed­ded fab­rics, which seem to gasp for air like the com­pressed bel­lows of an ac­cor­di­on, cre­ates a ho­ri­zont­al image. The work is at once play­ful and el­eg­ant, ho­ri­zont­al and ver­tic­al, soft and hard. The sculp­ture was mod­elled on the gi­gant­ic giant water lilies, which are char­ac­ter­ised by their plate-shaped float­ing leaves. In the 19th cen­tury, the dec­or­at­ive Nymphae­aceae, which are also toxic and can cause res­pir­at­ory para­lys­is, be­came pop­u­lar col­lect­or­s’ de­lights in botan­ic­al gar­dens. Chan­ners se­duct­ive use of col­our, sheen and sur­face tex­ture also cre­ates a linger­ing sense of un­ease as we sit down in the ocean of plastic pel­lets, know­ing that the mi­cro­plastic will be ex­creted into nature after the life­time of products made from HDPE.

Room 7

Concrete, 2015 /

Digital print on heavy crepe de Chine, framed; machined, carved and hand-polished marble /
each 171.45 × 156.21 cm  and 20 × 20 × 20 cm /
Photo: Charles Benton

Concrete, 2015 /

Digital print on heavy crepe de Chine, framed; machined, carved and hand-polished marble /

each 171.45 × 156.21 cm  and 20 × 20 × 20 cm /

Photo: Charles Benton

Ma­ter­i­als and forms that are found un­der­ground, such as rocks, fossils, metal and lava, are brought up to the sur­face in these works. Chan­ner cre­ates a play­ful jux­ta­pos­i­tion of form and ma­ter­i­al in Gran­ite and Con­crete (both 2015), stim­u­lat­ing view­er­s’ as­so­ci­ations in a way that was once per­fec­ted by the Sur­real­ists and af­ter­wards ad­op­ted by the ad­vert­ising in­dustry. 

The two wall-moun­ted works de­pict a lava flow, an image the artist first stretched and cut up into pieces be­fore hav­ing it prin­ted on fab­ric. That image is su­per­im­posed by an­oth­er one show­ing a ribbed plastic tube used in build­ing ser­vices en­gin­eer­ing that some­what re­sembles a spin­al column. The flat prints are each paired with a con­crete, three-di­men­sion­al sphere rest­ing on the floor, cut in such a way that it ap­pears to be sink­ing into the ground. The two works ex­em­pli­fy the artist’s in­terest in ma­ter­i­als and phys­ic­al­ity in a pre­cari­ous state os­cil­lat­ing between nat­ur­al­ness and ma­nip­u­la­tion, or­gan­ic and ar­ti­fi­cial, hu­manoid and ma­chine, two- and three-di­men­sion­al­ity. 

Room 8

Gills (2012) /
Digital print on spandex; aluminium /
216 × 197 × 37 cm, (five parts) /
Photo: Cary Whittier

Gills (2012) /

Digital print on spandex; aluminium /

216 × 197 × 37 cm, (five parts) /

Photo: Cary Whittier

The span­dex-covered alu­mini­um tubes in Gills (2012) glide up the wall, cling­ing to it closely be­fore ex­tend­ing out into the room and then snak­ing through the open space in an al­most awk­ward move­ment, only to then find their way back into a geo­met­ric form. The curved tubes in fact fol­low the sil­hou­ettes of Yves Saint Laurent’s sketches for his Le Smoking Suits, while the span­dex is prin­ted with a heav­ily dis­tor­ted image of Chan­ner­’s arm, warped even fur­ther by being wrapped around a pole. Gills is a study of an­thro­po­morph­ism in ob­jects, pos­ing the ques­tion of why fig­ur­a­tion should ne­ces­sar­ily imply a human form.

This work, like oth­ers by the artist, con­sists of a flat sur­face that she folds, curves, stretches and con­tracts in order to ex­plore sculp­tur­al as­pects of volume and scale. By ex­amin­ing the sur­faces, ma­ter­i­als and pro­cesses that make up our post-in­dus­tri­al en­vir­on­ment, she ques­tions what it means to be em­bod­ied in re­la­tion to these flat places, be they tech­no­lo­gic­al, in­dus­tri­al, vir­tu­al or com­mer­cial. 

Room 10

The sur­face of Mega­flora (2021), a scanned and greatly en­larged bramble branch that stands like a column in the room, is riddled with ridges. It is a sand-cast alu­mini­um monu­ment to an or­gan­ism that forces its way through the cracks of urban ter­rain that is in fact hos­tile to plant growth. The trans­form­a­tion of the black­berry bush into a sculp­ture on whose sur­face the traces and ridges left by that pro­cess re­main vis­ible and tan­gible, is both power­ful and vi­ol­ent. The mo­nu­ment­al­ity of the piece is in­tim­id­at­ing, the mag­ni­fied thorns com­mand­ing a threat­en­ing pres­ence. And yet Mega­flora is also an ap­peal­ing work. It re­mains hol­low in­side, a sen­su­al in­vit­a­tion to look closer, as if we were see­ing some­thing we de­sire. In this work, Chan­ner con­trasts the com­plex­ity of the nat­ur­al world with the pro­cesses of in­dus­tri­al pro­duc­tion. In terms of ma­ter­i­al, tex­ture, scale and weight, the trans­form­a­tion of the life form into a metal­lic ob­ject is not so much a ref­er­ence to a former ex­ist­ence as an on­to­lo­gic­al re­pos­i­tion­ing.

Megaflora, 2021 /
and-cast aluminium / 330 × 72 × 47 cm /
Courtesy the artist and Large Glass, London / Photo: Kunstgiesserei St.Gallen

Megaflora, 2021 /

and-cast aluminium / 330 × 72 × 47 cm /

Courtesy the artist and Large Glass, London / Photo: Kunstgiesserei St.Gallen

Room 11

“While look­ing into car man­u­fac­tur­ing, Chan­ner dis­covered that clean­ing discs made from os­trich feath­ers are used to re­move dust from the sur­face of vehicles between ap­plic­a­tions of paint. When in­stalled in factor­ies, the feath­ers look like a bur­lesque car­wash, their soft, dec­ad­ent forms spin­ning over the tops and sides of vehicles. Chan­ner sent me the sales PDF for a com­pany in Ger­many that sup­plies these feath­ers to high-end car­makers. The doc­u­ment ex­plains how ‘the os­trich feath­ers are glued by hand with sil­ic­one-free ad­hes­ives by spe­cially trained fe­male em­ploy­ees’. At the end of the file is a pho­to­graph of women dan­cing at a car­ni­val, dressed in diamanté bikinis and large red feath­ers. In the con­text of car man­u­fac­tur­ing, the feath­ers have been im­bued with an erot­ic mys­tique: a myth­os of the dec­or­at­ive and soft-handed fem­in­ine against the cool, hard, male-coded ex­ter­i­ors of lux­ury cars. For the works Body Shop and Cold Metal Bod­ies (both 2023), feath­er discs are sus­pen­ded from the ceil­ing on a series of metal chains. Placed in the gal­lery, the discs are given space to breathe, the as­so­cia-tions in­stilled in them — erot­i­cism, in­dustry, lux­ury, the­at­ric­al­ity, ab­surdity, sleaze — coaxed into the at­mo­sphere of the room.”

Ex­cerpt from The Stich Un­pick­er by Ros­anna McLaugh­lin. The essay was com­mis­sioned for the
mono­graph­ic ex­hib­i­tion pub­lic­a­tion Alice Chan­ner, ed. by Kun­st­mu­seum / Kun­sthalle Ap­pen­zell, Septem­ber 2023.

“Re­fer­ring to pol­ish­ing pro­cesses in the auto­mobile in­dustry that use os­trich feath­ers for their high-pre­ci­sion clean­ing, it is sen­su­ous, se­duct­ive, and play­ful. Sus­pen­ded ho­ri­zont­ally from hefty ver­tic­al chains, cir­cu­lar discs of os­trich plumes tickle the view­er­’s fancy, evok­ing the im­petu­ous flounce of tail feath­ers. Chan­ner­’s piece con­jures up car­toon-like im­ages of the large birds flirt­ing with lux­ury auto­mo­biles, but not without a dark­er un­der­tone of the en­counter between the an­im­al and the mech­an­ic­al (which rarely ends well for the former).”

Ex­cerpt from Ci­gar­ettes, Grime and Glam­our in the work of Alice Chan­ner by Zoë Gray. The essay was com­mis­sioned for the mono­graph­ic ex­hib­i­tion pub­lic­a­tion Alice Chan­ner, ed. by Kun­st­mu­seum / Kun­sthalle Ap­pen­zell, Septem­ber 2023.

Façade Kunstmuseum

Pangolin, 2023
UV digital print on blinds of the Kunstmuseum Appenzell /
each 346.5 × 358 cm; 226 × 358 cm /
Heinrich Gebert Kulturstiftung Appenzell

Pangolin, 2023

UV digital print on blinds of the Kunstmuseum Appenzell /

each 346.5 × 358 cm; 226 × 358 cm /

Heinrich Gebert Kulturstiftung Appenzell

Pan­golin (2023) is a site-spe­cif­ic ar­chi­tec­tur­al in­ter­ven­tion in­volving the win­dows of the Kun­st­mu­seum Ap­pen­zell. The work got its name from the artist’s en­counter with a pan­golin at the Nat­ur­al His­tory Mu­seum in St.Gal­len, but it also re­sponds to the scaly façade of the Kun­st­mu­seum. The im­ages com­pris­ing the work stem from pho­to­graphed rocks in the Crack­ing­ton Form­a­tion — a crum­bling, geo­lo­gic­ally sig­ni­fic­ant sec­tion of the Brit­ish coast. The pho­tos were di­git­ally ma­nip­u­lated and dis­tor­ted, and then ap­plied to silk through a pro­cess nor­mally used to print cloth­ing. The res­ult­ing prints in in­tense or­ange hues and dra­mat­ic browns and blacks were then fol­ded. The pleats over­lay the geo­lo­gic­al body, with the ef­fect of down­play­ing the massive scale of the rock. These pleated rock form­a­tions were in turn pho­to­graphed and prin­ted on fab­ric blinds that in the end be­came part of the ar­chi­tec­ture. One might say that the win­dow blinds dress the mu­seum in a di­git­ally pleated robe, with the metal body of the art mu­seum ima­gined as a fash­ion­ably dressed pan­golin amidst a land­scape of an­cient moun­tains.

Change the build­ing to dis­cov­er the second part of the ex­hib­i­tion:

Kun­sthalle Ap­pen­zell
Ziegeleis­trasse 14, 9050 Ap­pen­zell

Kunsthalle Room 1

Soft Sediment Deformation (Iron Bodies), 2023 /

Opal pleated inkjet prints on and in heavy crepe de Chine / ca. 800 × 200 × 270 cm /
Photo: Rob Harris

Soft Sediment Deformation (Iron Bodies), 2023 /

Opal pleated inkjet prints on and in heavy crepe de Chine / ca. 800 × 200 × 270 cm /

Photo: Rob Harris

In­tro­du­cing the second part of the ex­hib­i­tion Silk Cut at the Kun­sthalle, the mo­nu­ment­al silk work Soft Sed­i­ment De­form­a­tion (Iron Bod­ies) (2023) relates to the out­door land­scape vis­ible through the large gal­lery win­dow and to Pan­golin on the façade of the Kun­st­mu­seum. Alice Chan­ner has de­ployed here a spe­cial pleat­ing tech­nique used mainly in the fash­ion in­dustry to ma­nip­u­late tex­tiles with heat and pres­sure in order to cre­ate per­man­ent folds. The pleated fab­ric be­haves al­most like an ac­cor­di­on, wrap­ping it­self around the body and giv­ing it a dis­tinct­ive form. In Chan­ner­’s works, the two-di­men­sion­al fab­ric sup­port is trans­formed into a kind of scaly rep­tili­an skin and is turned into a three-di­men­sion­al sculp­ture. The fab­ric­a­tion pro­cess com­bines both manu­al and ma­chine pro­duc­tion: The folds are cre­ated by hand, while the heat press fixes them in place. Be­fore pleat­ing the silk, the artist has an image prin­ted on it and di­git­ally ali­en­ates its form, col­ours and struc­ture by means of dis­place­ment and su­per­im­pos­i­tion. This changes the ori­gin­al look of the fol­ded sur­faces, which in­creas­ingly take on the ap­pear­ance of fossils, a motif that can be found in vari­ous works in the ex­hib­i­tion.

Ammonite, 2019 /

Echioceras ammonite fossil, polypipe 160 mm × 25 m,black ridgicoil electric INC RC160×25BE, stainless steel, cable ties, sand-cast aluminium /
376 × 45 × 180 cm /
Photo: Achim Kukieles

Ammonite, 2019 /

Echioceras ammonite fossil, polypipe 160 mm × 25 m,black ridgicoil electric INC RC160×25BE, stainless steel, cable ties, sand-cast aluminium /

376 × 45 × 180 cm /

Photo: Achim Kukieles

In Am­mon­ite and Am­mon­ite (both 2019), placed on the gal­lery floor, two large alu­mini­um “bones” curl around a coil of black cor­rug­ated tubes nor­mally used as con­duits for elec­tric­al wir­ing, which are held to­geth­er here by steel bands. In­side the tubes, which like count­less other in­dus­tri­al products are made of HDPE pel­lets, are small am­mon­ite fossils. The sur­faces of the tubes are marked by fur­rows echo­ing the ridges and edges shap­ing the struc­ture of the alu­mini­um bod­ies left by the robot arm. In the in­dus­tri­al pro­cess, traces left on ob­ject sur­faces by the CNC milling ma­chine are usu­ally sanded away be­fore cast­ing, but Chan­ner de­lib­er­ately in­cor­por­ates them into the lan­guage of her sculp­tures. The com­bin­a­tion of
design, ma­ter­i­als and pro­cess traces gives rise to as­so­ci­ations that link wide-ran­ging tem­por­al di­men­sions, reach­ing from pre­his­tor­ic life forms to in­dus­tri­ally pro­duced goods.

Room 2

Mechanoreceptor, Icicles (red, red) (triple spring, triple strip), 2018 /

Lost-wax cast and PVC-dipped aluminium, titanium, electropolished stainless steel, stainless steel wire, sheet stainless steel, PVC coated stainless steel cables, fixings /

dimensions variable /
Photo: Lewis Ronald

Mechanoreceptor, Icicles (red, red) (triple spring, triple strip), 2018 /

Lost-wax cast and PVC-dipped aluminium, titanium, electropolished stainless steel, stainless steel wire, sheet stainless steel, PVC coated stainless steel cables, fixings /

dimensions variable /

Photo: Lewis Ronald


Mechanor­e­cept­or, Icicles (red, red) (triple spring, triple strip) (2018) ex­plores the re­la­tion­ships between ma­ter­i­als, in­dus­tri­al and tech­no­lo­gic­al pro­cesses, and the body. Rect­an­gu­lar sup­port frames hang from the ceil­ing on red cords that dangle all the way down to the floor, where they end in loops. Chan­ner de­veloped this struc­tures with the help of a metal­work­ing com­pany, so that the man­u­fac­tur­ing pro­cess it­self be­comes an agent in the final work. Alu­mini­um fin­gers moul­ded from a cast of the artist’s right index fin­ger are at­tached to 210 cus­tom-made clamps. The fin­ger was first scanned and then di­git­ally elong­ated and re­ma­ter­i­al­ised using a 3D print­er. In a seri­al pro­cess on the pro­duc­tion line, the tips of the fin­gers were dipped in bright red thermo-plastic and coated with a se­duct­ive gloss that lends them a dis­con­cert­ingly ar­ti­fi­cial air. The in­di­vidu­al com­pon­ents of the sculp­ture come to­geth­er like props to form a stage set on which every-thing seems to be in mo­tion, mak­ing us wit­nesses to the mo­ment of cre­ation of this glam­or­ous product. By sta­ging her own fin­ger, Chan­ner ne­ces­sar­ily refers to the concept of mod­ern artist­ic au­thor­ship, which views the artist as the au­then­t­ic cre­at­or of a work, and con­fronts that no­tion with in­dus­tri­al — and cre­at­ive — design pro-cesses as part of mech­an­ic­al and tech­no­lo­gic­al pro­duc­tion.

Life Without Air (Mesophyll), 2022 /
Silk Cut cigarette ash, polyethylene microspheres 500–850 μm, pencil, and water on and in paper, framed /
35.6 × 47.8 × 3.3 cm /
Photo: Lucy Dawkins

Life Without Air (Mesophyll), 2022 /

Silk Cut cigarette ash, polyethylene microspheres 500–850 μm, pencil, and water on and in paper, framed /

35.6 × 47.8 × 3.3 cm /

Photo: Lucy Dawkins

The paper works in her series Life Without Air (2022/23) are made of ashes from Silk Cut ci­gar­ettes, which the artist mixes with water in an ash­tray. The draw­ings call to mind or­gan­ic forms such as plant or an­im­al skel­et­ons. Poly­ethyl­ene mi­cro­spheres, which can be used to meas­ure the move­ment of flu­ids through a sys­tem, wheth­er mech­an­ic­al or or­gan­ic, settle onto the paper, where they shine like tiny jew­ellery beads.

Dry Cask (Silk Cut), 2023
Mirror-polished, lazer-cut, curved and welded sheet stainless steel, accordion-pleated crepe satin silk, sand-cast, vapor-blasted and chromed aluminium, sand-cast and vapor-blasted aluminium /
28 × 58 cm; 24 × 60 cm; 26 × 63 cm /
Photo: Lucy Dawkins

Dry Cask (Silk Cut), 2023

Mirror-polished, lazer-cut, curved and welded sheet stainless steel, accordion-pleated crepe satin silk, sand-cast, vapor-blasted and chromed aluminium, sand-cast and vapor-blasted aluminium /

28 × 58 cm; 24 × 60 cm; 26 × 63 cm /

Photo: Lucy Dawkins

The ex­hib­i­tion at the Kun­sthalle is en­titled Silk Cut, after the ci­gar­ette brand. The name is used here in al­lu­sion to a 1980s ad­vert­ising cam-paign by the Saat­chi & Saat­chi agency (whose co-founder Charles Saat­chi later be­came a Lon­don gal­ler­ist who had a sig­ni­fic­ant in­flu­ence on Brit­ish art in the 1990s). When Chan­ner was around seven years old, she saw a large-format ad­vert­ising poster in Lon­don that de­pic­ted a piece of lux­uri­ous dark purple satin fab­ric that had been sliced through by a knife blade. The cam­paign was sexy with a tinge of vi­ol­ence, with a high visu­al im­pact that made it a form­at­ive aes­thet­ic en­counter for Chan­ner. It pre-empted the ban on de­pict­ing ci­gar­ettes in to­bacco ad­vert­ising by not only avoid­ing show­ing the product it was pro­mot­ing but also es­chew­ing the brand name and in­stead visu­al­ising it as ma­ter­i­al and ac­tion. While the title of the ad­vert­ise­ment, “Silk Cut Mod­ern”, soun­ded like the name of an art gal­lery, ob­vi­ous echoes of Lucio Fontana’s sliced canvases as well as Sur­real­ist as­so­ci­ations tied in sub­vers­ively with the aes­thet­ics of art.

Dry Cask (Silk Cut) is a floor-based work com­pris­ing three cir­cu­lar con­tain­ers of slightly dif­fer­ent heights and dia­met­ers. One con­tains black pleated crepe silk satin, while the fab­ric in the other two is the vi­brant purple of the Silk Cut ad­vert [...]. The black fab­ric is presen­ted alone, the edges of its pleats read­ing as geo­lo­gic­al folds or the swirls of a fin­ger­print, re­flec­ted by the shiny edges of its con­tain­er. In each of the other two units is a sil­ver form: vapor-blas­ted alu­mini­um sand casts of am­mon­ite fossils (the small one matte, the lar­ger one chromed) that nestle like chubby silk­worms among the pleats.

The sculp­ture is loosely mod­elled on the cyl­indric­al dry-cask flasks used for stor­ing nuc­le­ar waste, which Chan­ner ima­gines cut open. [...] The work is part of an an­swer to her own earli­er call for forms that are un­cer­tain, other, alien. To nav­ig­ate the chal­lenges that we face (so­cial, eco­lo­gic­al, eco­nom­ic, philo­soph­ic­al), Chan­ner ar­gues that we need new kinds of ob­jects: ‘They must be con­fid­ently doubt­ful, awk­ward as well as el­eg­ant, h o r i z o n t a l as well as ver­tic­al, soft as well as hard. [...]’. And while the com­par­is­on to nuc­le­ar-waste stor­age grimly evokes the com­plex­ity of what is often hid­den be­hind the shiny sur­faces of in­dus­tri­al forms, Chan­ner de­cided here to ex­plore pleas­ure, giv­ing her­self per­mis­sion to use col­our and sur­face in highly se­duct­ive ways. 

This brings us full circle to the bill­board — whose purple lux­ury beckoned se­duct­ively to the artist as a child, curled like a silk­worm in the back of her par­ent­s’ car — selling tox­icity hid­den under glam­or­ous folds of fab­ric.”

Ex­cerpt from Ci­gar­ettes, Grime and Glam­our in the Work of Alice Chan­ner by Zoë Gray. The essay was com­mis­sioned for the mono­graph­ic ex­hib­i­tion pub­lic­a­tion Alice Chan­ner, ed. by Kun­st­mu­seum / Kun­sthalle Ap­pen­zell, Septem­ber 2023.

Room 3

Planetary System (Kolzer DGK63”), 2019 /

Kolzer DGK63” horizontal system vacuum metallizing carousel, vacuum-metallized spider crab (Maja brachydactyla), brown crab (Cancer pagurus) shells on stainless steel jigs / 160 × 150 × 210 cm /
Photo: Achim Kukieles

Planetary System (Kolzer DGK63”), 2019 /

Kolzer DGK63” horizontal system vacuum metallizing carousel, vacuum-metallized spider crab (Maja brachydactyla), brown crab (Cancer pagurus) shells on stainless steel jigs / 160 × 150 × 210 cm /

Photo: Achim Kukieles

Sim­il­ar to what we have seen in Chan­ner­’s other works, we en­counter here a pro­ced­ure in­volving a huma-nised as­sembly line and an ali­en­ated man­u­fac­tur­ing pro­cess. Plan­et­ary Sys­tem (Kolzer DGK63”) (2019) fea­tures a steel ca­rou­sel that is nor­mally used to alu­mini­um-coat car head­lights but is here di­ver­ted for the pur­pose of met­al­lising the tact­ile shells of liv­ing creatures. When the ca­rou­sel, known in the in­dustry as a “plan­et­ary sys­tem”, is placed in a va­cu­um, the fix­tures to which the crab shells are at­tached ro­tate, al­low­ing a fine li­quid metal mist to ac­cu­mu­late on them. The fra­gile brown crab shells con­trast sharply with the rough, tu­bu­lar con­struc­tion, and yet both meld here into a single unit. The ef­fect is to call into ques­tion the ali­en­a­tion in­her­ent in in­dus­tri­al pro­duc­tion, while the pro­cess it­self is sub­jec­ti­fied and be­comes an in­teg­ral part of the ob­ject. At the same time, the work points to eco­lo­gic­al fra­gil­ity in re­la­tion to our pro­duc­tion-ori­ented con­sump­tion of en­vir­on­ment­al re­sources. The use of tech­no­logy may well lend the fra­gile exo­skel­et­ons a se­duct­ive look, but they are also acutely vul­ner­able due to their prox­im­ity to the ma­chine. The title Plan­et­ary Sys­tem (Kolzer DGK63”) is poly­phon­ic, sum­mon­ing as­so­ci­ations with space travel as well as vis­ions of the nat­ur­al life forms and or­gan­ic bod­ies that share our plan­et, and even pos­sible sci­ence fic­tion tales ex­press­ing our fas­cin­a­tion with the tech­no­lo­gic­al prom­ise of pro­gress.

Bio

Alice Chan­ner gradu­ated from Gold­smiths Col­lege, Lon­don (2006), with a Bach­el­or’s de­gree in Fine Art and from the Royal Col­lege of Art, Lon­don (2008), with a Mas­ter­’s de­gree in Sculp­ture. Her work has been ex­hib­ited at the Liv­er­pool Bi­en­nale, UK (2021); 55th Venice Bi­en­nale, IT (2013); and Glas­gow In­ter­na­tion­al, UK (2010). She has had in­sti­tu­tion­al solo present­a­tions at the Aspen Art Mu­seum, Col­or­ado, US (2015); Kest­ner Gesell­schaft, Han­over, DE (2014); Hep­worth Wake­field, York­shire, UK (2013); Kun­stver­ein Freiburg, DE (2013); and South Lon­don Gal­lery, UK (2012). She real­ised works in pub­lic space in Joshua Tree, CA, US (2022); the Uni­ver­sity of the West of Eng­land, UK (2021); and for Artan­gel, UK (2021). She has been rep­res­en­ted in nu­mer­ous group ex­hib­i­tions in­clud­ing Kun­sthalle Ham­burg, DE (2022/23); the Royal Academy of Arts, Lon­don, UK (2022); at Marta Her­ford, DE (2021); York­shire Sculp­ture Park, UK (2021); White­chapel Gal­lery, Lon­don, UK (2017/18); MO.CO. Pan­acée, Mont­pel­li­er, FR (2018); Mu­seum Kur­haus Kleve, DE (2016); Whit­worth Art Gal­lery, Manchester, UK (2016); Aïshti Found­a­tion, Beirut, LB (2015); Pub­lic Art Fund, New York, US (2015); Frider­i­cian­um, Kas­sel, DE (2014); Künst­ler­haus Graz, AT (2014); and Tate Bri­tain, Lon­don, UK (2012).

Imprint

Pub­lic­a­tion 

On the oc­ca­sion of the ex­hib­i­tion, a com­pre­hens­ive, mono­graph­ic cata­logue (Eng­lish / Ger­man) de­signed by Math­i­as Clottu will be pub­lished by DIS­TANZ Ver­lag with es­says by Ros­anna McLaugh­lin and Zoë Gray, an ex­per­i­ment­al text by Daisy Hild­y­ard and an in­ter­view by Stefanie Gschwend with Alice Chan­ner.

CUR­AT­OR

Stefanie Gschwend, dir­ect­or Kun­st­mu­seum / Kun­sthalle Ap­pen­zell

EX­HIB­I­TION OR­GAN­ISA­TION

Claudia Reeb

EX­HIB­I­TION IN­STALL­A­TION

Chris­ti­an Hörler, Chris­ti­an Meier, Nik­laus Ul­mann,
Ueli Alder, Raoul Doré, Asi Föck­er, Roswitha Gobbo, Carina Kirsch

ART EDU­CA­TION

Anna Beck-Wörner

AD­MIN­IS­TRA­TION & EVENTS

Ur­sula Schmid

EX­HIB­I­TION RE­CEP­TION & MU­SEUM AT­TEND­ANTS

Petra Bau­mann, Raphaela Böhi, Domi­n­ique Franke, Mar­grit Gmünder, Roswitha Gobbo, Carina Kirsch,
Mar­grit Küng, Madleina Ru­tishaus­er, Bar­bara Met­zger, Cristina Mosti, Lilli Schreiber 

ED­IT­ORS

Kun­st­mu­seum / Kun­sthalle Ap­pen­zell

EDIT­ING

Stefanie Gschwend

TEXT

Un­less oth­er­wise stated: Stefanie Gschwend

COUR­TESY

Un­less oth­er­wise stated: Cour­tesy the artist and Kon­rad Fisc­her Galer­ie

PROOFREAD­ING

Mi­chaela Alex-Eiben­stein­er

TRANS­LA­TION

Katja Nau­mann

GRAPH­IC DESIGN

Data-Orbit / Michel Egger, St.Gal­len

AC­KNOW­LEDGE­MENT

Alice Chan­ner, D O M E St.Gal­len, Berta Fisc­her, Irène Geis­s­er und / and Bernhard Man­del, Zoë Gray, Alex Gray, Ruedi Grob, Daisy Hild­y­ard, Noël Ho­chuli, Kon­rad Fisc­her Galer­ie, Kun­st­giesserei St. Gal­len, Large Glass, Ros­anna McLaugh­lin, Marc Ohli­ger, Thomas Rieger, Char­lotte Schep­ke, Sonja Schürpf, Heinz Stamm und Lei­hge­ber­*innen, die nicht na­ment­lich genan­nt wer­den möcht­en / and lenders who wish to re­main an­onym­ous

KINDLY SUP­POR­TED BY 

Hans und Wilma Stutz Stif­tung
Gold­smiths, Uni­ver­sity of Lon­don
Kon­rad Fisc­her Galer­ie
Kan­tonales Landes­bauamt Ap­pen­zell In­nerr­hoden
Ernst und Olga Gu­bler-Hablützel Stif­tung

Alice Channer
Starship (Super Heavy), 2022 / 

machined limestone, lost-wax cast and mirror-polished aluminium, chromed, vapour-blasted, machined and sand-cast aluminium, accordion pleated crepe satin silk, laser-cut and mirror-polished stainless steel /
135 × 135 × 5 cm; 120 × 120 × 9 cm; 130 × 130 × 11 cm /
Photo: Fred Dott

Starship (Super Heavy), 2022 /

machined limestone, lost-wax cast and mirror-polished aluminium, chromed, vapour-blasted, machined and sand-cast aluminium, accordion pleated crepe satin silk, laser-cut and mirror-polished stainless steel /

135 × 135 × 5 cm; 120 × 120 × 9 cm; 130 × 130 × 11 cm /

Photo: Fred Dott

Crustacean Satellites, 2018 /

Vacuum-metallized spider crab (Maja brachydactyla) and brown crab (Cancer pagurus) shells on stainless steel jigs, PVC-coated steel cables, fixings /
450 × 105 × 110 cm /
Photo: Stuart Whipps

Crustacean Satellites, 2018 /

Vacuum-metallized spider crab (Maja brachydactyla) and brown crab (Cancer pagurus) shells on stainless steel jigs, PVC-coated steel cables, fixings /

450 × 105 × 110 cm /

Photo: Stuart Whipps

Rockpool, 2022 /
Two tonnes of coarse salt, extracted from the Mojave Desert, hand-curved, powder-coated and lacquered steel / 
20 m × 6.43 m × 20 cm /
Courtesy the artist and High Desert Test Sides /
Photo: Sarah Lyon

Rockpool, 2022 /

Two tonnes of coarse salt, extracted from the Mojave Desert, hand-curved, powder-coated and lacquered steel /

20 m × 6.43 m × 20 cm /

Courtesy the artist and High Desert Test Sides /

Photo: Sarah Lyon

Burial, 2016 /

Cast aluminium bronze, cast concrete, cast Corten steel / Dimensionen variabel / variable dimensions /
Photo: Aurélien Mole

Burial, 2016 /

Cast aluminium bronze, cast concrete, cast Corten steel / Dimensionen variabel / variable dimensions /

Photo: Aurélien Mole

Linear Bivalves (Quintuple Green) (Detail), 2018 /
Vacuum-metallized and lacquered mussel shells on custom jigs / 484 × 260.3 × 7 cm /
Photo: Roman März

Linear Bivalves (Quintuple Green) (Detail), 2018 /

Vacuum-metallized and lacquered mussel shells on custom jigs / 484 × 260.3 × 7 cm /

Photo: Roman März

Birthing Pool, 2019 /
Accordion pleated high-tech lamé, accordion pleated polyester satin, accordion pleated “women ladies animal leopard snake PU PVC wet look shiny legging fashion pant new”, accordion pleated “sexy ladies high waist wet look skinny leather leggings pants trousers black”, mirror-polished stainless steel, pelletised and recycled HDPE /
372 × 172 × 8.5 cm / Installation: variable dimensions /

Photo: Tim Bowditch

Birthing Pool, 2019 /

Accordion pleated high-tech lamé, accordion pleated polyester satin, accordion pleated “women ladies animal leopard snake PU PVC wet look shiny legging fashion pant new”, accordion pleated “sexy ladies high waist wet look skinny leather leggings pants trousers black”, mirror-polished stainless steel, pelletised and recycled HDPE /

372 × 172 × 8.5 cm / Installation: variable dimensions /

Photo: Tim Bowditch

Concrete, 2015 /

Digital print on heavy crepe de Chine, framed; machined, carved and hand-polished marble /
each 171.45 × 156.21 cm  and 20 × 20 × 20 cm /
Photo: Charles Benton

Concrete, 2015 /

Digital print on heavy crepe de Chine, framed; machined, carved and hand-polished marble /

each 171.45 × 156.21 cm  and 20 × 20 × 20 cm /

Photo: Charles Benton

Gills (2012) /
Digital print on spandex; aluminium /
216 × 197 × 37 cm, (five parts) /
Photo: Cary Whittier

Gills (2012) /

Digital print on spandex; aluminium /

216 × 197 × 37 cm, (five parts) /

Photo: Cary Whittier

Megaflora, 2021 /
and-cast aluminium / 330 × 72 × 47 cm /
Courtesy the artist and Large Glass, London / Photo: Kunstgiesserei St.Gallen

Megaflora, 2021 /

and-cast aluminium / 330 × 72 × 47 cm /

Courtesy the artist and Large Glass, London / Photo: Kunstgiesserei St.Gallen

Pangolin, 2023
UV digital print on blinds of the Kunstmuseum Appenzell /
each 346.5 × 358 cm; 226 × 358 cm /
Heinrich Gebert Kulturstiftung Appenzell

Pangolin, 2023

UV digital print on blinds of the Kunstmuseum Appenzell /

each 346.5 × 358 cm; 226 × 358 cm /

Heinrich Gebert Kulturstiftung Appenzell

Soft Sediment Deformation (Iron Bodies), 2023 /

Opal pleated inkjet prints on and in heavy crepe de Chine / ca. 800 × 200 × 270 cm /
Photo: Rob Harris

Soft Sediment Deformation (Iron Bodies), 2023 /

Opal pleated inkjet prints on and in heavy crepe de Chine / ca. 800 × 200 × 270 cm /

Photo: Rob Harris

Ammonite, 2019 /

Echioceras ammonite fossil, polypipe 160 mm × 25 m,black ridgicoil electric INC RC160×25BE, stainless steel, cable ties, sand-cast aluminium /
376 × 45 × 180 cm /
Photo: Achim Kukieles

Ammonite, 2019 /

Echioceras ammonite fossil, polypipe 160 mm × 25 m,black ridgicoil electric INC RC160×25BE, stainless steel, cable ties, sand-cast aluminium /

376 × 45 × 180 cm /

Photo: Achim Kukieles

Mechanoreceptor, Icicles (red, red) (triple spring, triple strip), 2018 /

Lost-wax cast and PVC-dipped aluminium, titanium, electropolished stainless steel, stainless steel wire, sheet stainless steel, PVC coated stainless steel cables, fixings /

dimensions variable /
Photo: Lewis Ronald

Mechanoreceptor, Icicles (red, red) (triple spring, triple strip), 2018 /

Lost-wax cast and PVC-dipped aluminium, titanium, electropolished stainless steel, stainless steel wire, sheet stainless steel, PVC coated stainless steel cables, fixings /

dimensions variable /

Photo: Lewis Ronald


Life Without Air (Mesophyll), 2022 /
Silk Cut cigarette ash, polyethylene microspheres 500–850 μm, pencil, and water on and in paper, framed /
35.6 × 47.8 × 3.3 cm /
Photo: Lucy Dawkins

Life Without Air (Mesophyll), 2022 /

Silk Cut cigarette ash, polyethylene microspheres 500–850 μm, pencil, and water on and in paper, framed /

35.6 × 47.8 × 3.3 cm /

Photo: Lucy Dawkins

Dry Cask (Silk Cut), 2023
Mirror-polished, lazer-cut, curved and welded sheet stainless steel, accordion-pleated crepe satin silk, sand-cast, vapor-blasted and chromed aluminium, sand-cast and vapor-blasted aluminium /
28 × 58 cm; 24 × 60 cm; 26 × 63 cm /
Photo: Lucy Dawkins

Dry Cask (Silk Cut), 2023

Mirror-polished, lazer-cut, curved and welded sheet stainless steel, accordion-pleated crepe satin silk, sand-cast, vapor-blasted and chromed aluminium, sand-cast and vapor-blasted aluminium /

28 × 58 cm; 24 × 60 cm; 26 × 63 cm /

Photo: Lucy Dawkins

Planetary System (Kolzer DGK63”), 2019 /

Kolzer DGK63” horizontal system vacuum metallizing carousel, vacuum-metallized spider crab (Maja brachydactyla), brown crab (Cancer pagurus) shells on stainless steel jigs / 160 × 150 × 210 cm /
Photo: Achim Kukieles

Planetary System (Kolzer DGK63”), 2019 /

Kolzer DGK63” horizontal system vacuum metallizing carousel, vacuum-metallized spider crab (Maja brachydactyla), brown crab (Cancer pagurus) shells on stainless steel jigs / 160 × 150 × 210 cm /

Photo: Achim Kukieles

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