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MICE AND MAN: CARSTEN HÖLLER AND ROSEMARIE TROCKEL

The creatures outside looked from pig to man, and from man to pig, and from pig to man again; but already it was impossible to say which was which.

George Orwell, Animal Farm

HIGH HEDGES SURROUND THE BUILDING, hiding it from view like a public toilet that the denizens of this little German city, Kassel, aren’t particularly proud of. From the outside it’s not very hospitable, its strangely minimal architecture making it look like a bunker. The door is ajar, as if to facilitate quick access when the need is pressing. But once you enter the building, an altogether unexpected atmosphere prevails. You have entered a place of calm reflection, meditation, even wonder. Groups of people, young and old, sit and lie on gray carpets arranged on a concrete incline. Everybody is looking in the same direction, as if silently scrutinizing a large painting in a museum. But what these people are marveling

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