Edith Dekyndt

Galerie Karin Guenther

In 1977, copies of a golden phonograph record filled with sounds bearing witness to human civilization and Earth’s flora and fauna were shot into space onboard both Voyager probes; they have been hurtling through space and time ever since. It will take forty thousand years for one of them to reach another planet, where—at least this is the hope—it will give whomever or whatever it finds there a notion of life on Earth: They will hear Bach and the Beatles, greetings in more than fifty different languages, and the sounds of the surf and a beating heart. The Belgian artist Edith Dekyndt has picked up on this back-story for her recent exhibition “At Night I Lie,” in which a monitor displayed, like the credits at the end of a movie, the history of the golden record along with a description of the imperceptible changes in the shape of Earth’s surface. The show thus pivoted around our continuing

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