The installation consists of two levels: sky and earth. Between them lies a space – an interregnum. In its historical context, interregnum often refers to the time between the death of a ruler and the election or appointment of a successor, or to a period without a ruler. A state without fixed order. Neither entirely bound, nor freely floating. A moment in between. The material of the earth-bound works is the outer fabric of a mattress. It emphasizes gravity – the connection between body and ground, between breath and gravitational pull. A feeling like asphalt against the cheek. A gravitation that feels heavy and existential. The mattress evokes places of birth and dying, of intimacy, care, and exhaustion. It stores bodies. It speaks of care work and vulnerability. It is Mother Earth. Beautiful, holding, but it also urgently needs something to look up to, Something that counters this gravitation.

The sky is painted on two canvases with turpentine and oil. It thins the fabric, lets light through, and is stretched over a wooden frame. The cross of the stretcher frame shows through on the front and is entirely matter-of-fact on the back. Cloud-like forms rise, flee, dissipate – and yet remain bound. They have strong edges, want firm contours, but float or fall. The sky draws, yet stays distant. No redemption, no destination – only the sense of something that might come.

On a planet with gravity, the sky is something remote. To let something float defies this gravity. It feels rebellious, is associated with magic, religion, or play. The Old Is Dying, And The New Cannot Be Born.
The title, as announced, references Antonio Gramsci's Prison Notebooks. The installation resonates with Gramsci's dictum by oscillating between groundedness and a state of suspension. The new perhaps already exists as potential, as a small seed or silhouette, but it has not yet found a body, a language.

Old orders – religion, fossil capitalism – are losing their power, yet remain effective. Digital energies and new ideologies are emerging.

We live in a time of in-between. It is not only threatening, but it is also creative. It is open to change, but also to fear and chaos. In this space, where nothing seems certain, something new might perhaps begin.