Catalogue / 2022
Photography / Text / / Benno Hinkes
Design / Catrin Sonnabend

Impressions from…

Publication date: fall 2022


Passages. Places we arrive at. Places we go to. Places we encounter. Places in the outskirts. Places in the center. Near the old town. Right on the exit road. The shopping arcade. Crossed in a hurry on the way to the public office. Puffy letters. A mirroring glass facade sucks you in. Blows warm, dry air at you. Up from bellow. Right into your face. Down from high up, music, trickling down, spreading into the depth of the room, finding its way between permanent low prizes and top offers. In the eyes, once-in-a-lifetime chances, premium class, and best buys. You’ll never regret it. Lights. Blinking. Hectically. Flashing. You almost overlooked it. The elevator. So discreet its aluminum sheen. You press the button. And the door opens. You press the „door close“ button. And nothing happens. You press again. And the door closes. You press „up“. And the door opens. You press the „door close“ button. And wait. Nothing happens. Until the door closes. By itself. Just in time to leave someone outside. Finally. Upstairs, it goes. Alone. Where you are being spat out. In front of the waiting room. No, in the middle of the waiting room. A kind of Italian piazza opens up in front of you, on the fifth floor, with dead olive trees. Or are they still alive? Under the gray tarnished glass roof. The view upwards, to the sky you can’t see. People all around you, sitting. Waiting. Reading. Sleeping, in the corridor, the wide one before the narrow one. The wide one leads to the toilet. The narrow one leads around the corner, into nowhere. Just before nowhere, the coffee machine. Here, too, they sit and wait. Instant coffee in a plastic cup. Instant karma. Found. Drunk. Too hastily. The thin, brown hot liquid pours out, is gonna get you, in the flow of the music. Over your hand. Onto the floor of the piazza. Finds its way. In the gaps. Between the tiles. And further. Back again. To wait. Elsewhere. […]