Veritable universes of loss, recovery and archiving, Schenkelberg‘s sculptural installations bring out the potent expressiveness contained in broken and discarded beings and materials.
How is a life assembled? There is picking and scouring and cracking and stirring. Only surface, always removed in nervous excavations, yet ever returning in uroboros of geological layers. A life to be told in small fragments chipped away until vacuum wanders like an orphan. Memories assemble through insurmountable nooks rubbing against minuscule unevenness that scatter dust specks in somnambulistic dismay. Gnawing, chaffing, scuffing, scraping for tired light comes late. Into the halls of grayness all discards eventually drift, a muted, scared festivity found via mass burial.
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