Galerie Bob van Orsouw

FIRST YOU WERE PLUNGED into sudden darkness and could see nothing. Then you began to make out the gallery's high-ceilinged industrial space. It had been turned into a cavern filled with the penetrating near-roar of electronically amplified breathing, a hum like that of a film projector, interrupted by occasional attempts at speaking. At opposite comers of this sound chamber, two hanging projection screens leaned toward each other: Godforsaken Hole/Free Hand, 1999. One of the black-and-white video projections showed a disembodied hand groping in the void, motioning in front of the camera as if it were trying to grasp something, or as if the camera itself were trying to come close to the hand: a freehand drawing, playing with verticality. The other projection showed a vista in glimmering light, framed by glowing teeth, followed by deep darkness. The slowly alternating motion of the mouth

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