Requiem‍‍

Requiem continues Norman Maýn’s exploration of the perpetuation of violence (against non-human animals) and human, male guilt. Rather than merely stepping into the work, we are invited to trample it; we trigger sounds and tensions, move against resistance, penetrate the space, and become part of the shame. Improvised – and at times ephemeral – architectures of violence, ritual sites, spaces of isolation, the systems of corridors and pathways found in slaughterhouses, war zones, or illegal combat sports events share more similarities than one might expect. Requiem traces these parallels, shaping these points of intersection into a binary construct.

Maýn draws upon architectural principles of spatial isolation and irreversible pathways, translating them within his artistic installation into structures and materialities that can be physically traversed. The gallery entrance is transformed into the gateway to a ‚spectacle of violence’ – at once menacing and unstable. Walls made of weathered corrugated sheets appear dilapidated, yet they form an impassable dead end. A hollowed-out fence post evokes the image of a punching bag. Beneath our feet, a patchwork of steel plates clatters; the noise and stress are generated solely by our own movement. We are pushed through a narrowing corridor and ultimately squeezed into a chamber with no exit. Amidst forced movement and the clamor of violence, stillness becomes the only safe haven – like a moment where, for a split second, time stands still between life and death.

Text: Anne Hölck and Norman Maýn