To work and die in Vienna
Sigfried Anzinger / Christian Ludwig Attersee / Hanna Besenhard / Karolin Braegger / Éva Bodnár / Olivia Coeln / Maria Cozma / Connor Crawford / Albert Dietrich / Michaela Eichwald / Ernst Fuchs / Nik Geene & Hélène Fauquet / Bruno Gironcoli / Sophie Gogl / Hannah Hansel / Axel Huber / Helena Huneke / Evan Jose / Chantal Kaufmann / Nicola di Menna / Günther Möbius / Ariane Mueller / Ann Muller / Amy Dayan Ndiaye / Oswald Oberhuber / Laurids Oder / Noële Ody /Georg Petermichl / Rade Petrasevic / Lou-Anna Ulloa del Rio / Gabriele Rothemann / Jörg Schlick / Nora Schultz / Nino Stelzl / Josef Strau / Pol Summer / Marcus Wagner / Franz West/ Heimo Zobernig
Third Space, City Galerie
(07.04.-23.05.2026)
remember the river cheerful ripples and light
dancing on its surface the slender leaves
a pale yellow drifting in its current, it sounded
like child’s play on smooth pebbles, satisfied fields,
and the men somewhere unconcerning, remember
the sky like a magnesium ribbon set on fire
fading into tall weeds all you could see were white and red and blue
specks of slightly varying sizes, remember the snapping of stems
life’s green essence wetting your fingertips collecting
white and red and blue in your skirts, the river greedily lapping
at your toes, remember being seduced the delightful chill
of a tense surface rimming first your calves, then your thighs
soaking your skirts and bodice until you’d lie down on its cold body
remember the birdsong and how you thought it sounded different
that day, you felt it in your mouth and then downstream
escaping and it dawned on you
remember the lullabies you’d fall asleep to as a child
and the wooden treasure box you used to keep
collectibles, flat round river stones veined with pale grey streaks and a pin
whose needle you would sometimes push a little too deep past your blouse’s fabric
and then push it a little further enjoying the prick and the small red bead forming at its tip
lifting its painted lid you’d imagine yourself God as a girl
you’d weigh the feeling of importance in your hand, turning it from one side to the other while calculating its equivalent in gold
and you’d recognize the pawn’s shape as your own
remember a quiet rectangular room
walls perfectly smooth, straight, flooded with the image of a giantess
drifting in a river, you surrounded by a coiling stream faced
with two big hands limply directed at the sky, remember there was something strange
about the light which didn’t seem to come from the integrated light fixtures but some place
beyond each wall casting the illusion of a shadow towards the center
and light gathering in a narrow pool
as if through a slit in the ceiling, remember her features
under your fingertips and hair becoming water
the white billowing island of her chest, her abdomen
sagging and cut in two by the corner, a bloated skirt with pale florals
and washed out trimmings and then darkness and depth
pansies, rosemary, rue dissolve into marks
of white, red and blue about the size of your palm
her gaping mouth
engulfing you, the veins of the white marble under your feet
like a lithe river
throughout the day the sun can be seen approaching from different angles
mourning the collapse of a narrow plywood wall
exposed like the backside of a mind, you slip out from under the girl’s heavy body
escaping over a neglected threshold your eyes pinned on the mocking back of his head
a cloud of murky air desiring to haunt