Knut Henrik Henriksen
C. never understood why people looked to the stars. Up was not about heaven, the future or pretty faces from the silver screen. "It's just one big aquarium where things are suspended", he noted with aplomb. Shiny dots, reflections, stacked levels of air and trapped sounds. Some fake things looked real up there; some small objects looked big in the distance. "The problem is that it could all fall, too. Up could come down." As if to prove his point - and to calm his nerves - C. decided to build a model of the universe and fasten the constellations to the ceiling and the walls. "The best way to fight gravity is the nail."
R. had other ideas. The ceiling was the top of the universe, and everything should begin there, from the installation of the works to the gaze of the visitors. "In these delicate matters," he wrote in his little commentary, "it is simply not fruitful to follow the writings of Nicolaus Copernicus or Nicolas Bourriaud." Driven by a belief that the lightswitch had long monopolised our relation to the ceiling, R. sought to transform the entire room into an extension of the body - physical, psychological, historical. Eyeball extenders, déjà-vu corners, monumental sounds were his tools. And his inspiration? Dom Perignon, who believed that he had discovered a way to drink stars. "I want to digest them."