Folded 8-page Text Piece to Accompany Certificate and Map Sent to Angels

The text piece printed and folded — plain cover, the title and the epigraph, nothing else. Thirteen years of thinking distilled into something you could hold in one hand.

The text piece printed and folded — plain cover, the title and the epigraph, nothing else. Thirteen years of thinking distilled into something you could hold in one hand.

The pairing system worked out by hand in a sketchbook — red lines crossing between two rows of names, the whole thing held together with tape and stubbornness. This is where the logic of the exchange lived before it became…

The printed certificates stacked on cardboard, still warm from the printer — each one numbered, signed, and embossed. Twenty of them, one for each exchange.

The network map across 4 planes of the walls of the Truman Brewery — the tape lines branching and crossing, each one standing in for a connection between two people who never met. The room was large enough that you…

The duct tape lines converging on a single point — the brickwork underneath making it rougher and more physical than the Hendon version. The light from a hole in the wall in the corner is incidental, but intrudes beautifully

The objects before they went anywhere — each one wrapped and taped, gathered in a pile that looks more like a sorting office than an artwork. This was the moment the broken things became something else.

The network lines, the embossed seal, the small green stamp with the name of the piece broken across two lines. Everything on this certificate is doing a specific job.

Black duct tape on the white wall and floor — the network of exchanges rendered in the cheapest possible material, site-specific and temporary by nature. This was the first time the map existed in physical space.

A second view of the duct tape piece at Hendon — the lines running up the wall and across the floor, the light box visible in the corner. I’m including it because the light is different.

An early iteration of the piece in dialogue with Long’s wall text works — the list of broken objects as found poetry, the names of contributions standing in for place names, the layout itself broken.