Steel bridges connect people and places, just like cab drivers. After leaving the declining factories, they switched from steel to bicycles. Unwittingly, they have built their own safety net. Now they watch how former oil platforms become skeletons, dislocate and break open. The slow decay makes their subjects more and more alive. Their insides become tangible, visible, audible: when they breathe heavily, they crack and creak. Unconcrete noises penetrate from concrete blocks, caught in metal wires, hollow tubes and unknown structures. The bowels of a glorious past. The unsinkable ship is said to have landed at the bottom of the sea. Sometimes durable steel can be the most fragile.
Wǔ Lǐ Yún Wù
The artist duo STRWÜÜ came together in 2014 to kidnap a plant, eat for a stopmotion film and perform together with a giant water lily in a water basin. They made inaudible sound objects, tried to use each other as puppets at the same time and put a stick on a piece of paper for a long time. They piled up animals to form patterns that were constantly renewing themselves, fitted old printers with prostheses and made pigeon flutes circle in a huge hall. They tied strings to form sounds, bridged time to generate space, accompanied industrial buildings as they oscillated, and forced air to dance. They robbed fans of their cooling effect, boiled resin to create friction and immersed a mycelium in lamentations.