Beneath your feet is a a magic blanket. A patchwork quilt of concrete history. As you walk on this surface you become part of it, leaving your stains and dents on its surface. It is a passive history of the city – of its abirtrary nature, its unceratinty, its hidden textures.There is almost every colour you can imagine down here and every surface from forest floor to lunar landscape. You must walk it to understand its full range. It is a map of its own territory and you are required to navigate by instinct.It can change at any moment: one day it’s ripped apart to reveal the guts of the city beneath, the next it is repaired, patched over, the next day it is full of blossom, the next covered in blood.
The Domestic Landscape
The Pavement
Beneath your feet is a a magic blanket. A patchwork quilt of concrete history. As you walk on this surface you become part of it, leaving your stains and dents on its surface. It is a passive history of the city – of its abirtrary nature, its unceratinty, its hidden textures.There is almost every colour you can imagine down here and every surface from forest floor to lunar landscape. You must walk it to understand its full range. It is a map of its own territory and you are required to navigate by instinct.It can change at any moment: one day it’s ripped apart to reveal the guts of the city beneath, the next it is repaired, patched over, the next day it is full of blossom, the next covered in blood.