“Dynamorphic” represents ways of describing life’s ephemerality, while dealing with the question of who we perceive as “the other.” How do the mechanisms of alienation work, can context alter our position of kinship, of belonging? The focus is on the out-of-sync, the hindrance of carrying and difficulties in placement of cultural baggage: if you could pick up someone else’s cultural baggage, how would this affect you? In purveying an aesthetic of searching, we cling to fragments and elements of chance which in turn dissolve, unravel and ultimately slip away. When we look into each other’s faces for the first time, can there be a moment of transition, when the unknown turns into familiarity, to compassion?

The “Dynamorphic” installation was made up of Hillary’s cut-out paintings on vinyl, depicting a scull and a rock, attached to branches, and depictions of a mirror frame and a bullet hole on the windows. The word Limbonaut painted on a wall. A woodcarved fist on the floor. Finally three suspended shelves with a black fur balaclava, a painted hand, and a long black glove with long hairs protruding from the fingertips, covered in a sheet of melting white ice.

Nedregard began by moving amongst the people present, looking into their eyes. I followed my first instinctual response as I approached each one. One got a smile or a handshake, one was ignored, I covered someone’s eyes with my hand. Another got a kiss, someone was pushed aggressively out of the way. In front of another I fell to the floor. Occasionally I repeated one action exhaustively. I left each outcome open-ended. I moved towards the objects in the room, interacting with each of them—the paintings of the skull and the rock as if they were human faces. I wore the balaclava, sat on my knees, placing one hand on the carved fist on the floor, the other hand raised in a fist as to signal fight. I got up into the window frame, faced the bullet hole, and made vocal sounds to the effect of complaining, of sorrow. I fell on the floor. I discarded the balaclava. I faced the other window and the mirror frame, looking out. I approached the painted hand on the wall, placing my ice gloved hand next to it. I approached the people present again, one by one, offering them my ice gloved hand to touch and explore. When I had again greeted all the people present, I took off the glove, smashed the remaining ice out if it, then attached the glove and the balaclava back to their respective shelves.