“Räume Zwischen Den Symbolen”
"Engulfed In Streaming Radiance", Cut paper, 23 x 23cm, 2011.
"Once in the street he was engulfed in streaming radiance. Outlines did not exist, colors had no substance. Like a woman's wispy dress that has slipped off its hanger, the city shimmered and fell in fantastic folds, not held up by anything, a discarnate iridescence limply suspended in the azure autumnal air. Beyond the nacrine desert of the square, across which a car sped now and then with a new metropolitan trumpeting, great pink edifices loomed, and suddenly a sunbeam, a gleam of glass, would stab him painfully in the pupil. "
-Vladimir Nabokov, King Queen Knave
“Phenomenology Of The Spirit, Page 183" Cut paper, 23x28 cm, 2011.
"The unity of these manifold capacities in the opposite aspect to this universality, the actual individuality. However, to take up again in this way the distinctive actual individualities, and to recount that one man has more inclination for this, another for that, that one has more intelligence than another, all this is much less interesting even than enumerating the species of insects, mosses, etc.; for these give observation the right to take them thus singly and uncomprehendingly, because they being essentially to the element of contingent particularization."
"For the Edification Of Beginning" Cut paper, 26 x 23 cm, 2011.
“... there was a church, and a public garden, and a corner pharmacy, and a public convenience with thujas around it, and even a triangular island with a kiosk, at which tram conductors regaled themselves with milk. A multitude of streets diverging in all directions, jumping out from behind corners and skirting the above-mentioned places of prayer and refreshment, turned it all into one of those schematic pictures on which are depicted for the edification of beginning motorists all the elements of the city, all the possibilities for them to collide."
-Vladimir Nabokov, The Gift
"In Contemplation Of The Brandenburg Gate" Cut Paper, 23x23 cm, 2011.
'"Archway,’ uttered the smaller boy with awe. The whole family became absorbed in the contemplation of the Brandenburg Gate. ‘Historical site,’ the bigger boy said. ‘An ancient arch, yes,’ confirmed the father. ‘How shall we wriggle through?’ the bigger boy wondered, fearing for the sides of the bus, ‘it’s a squeeze!’ ‘We did wriggle through,’ the smaller boy whispered with relief. ‘And now this is the Unter,’ cried the mother, ‘time to get off.’ ‘The Unter is such a long, long street,’ said the bigger boy, ‘I saw it on the map.’ ‘This is President Street,’ said the smaller boy dreamily. ‘Shut up, idiot! It’s the Unter Linden.’ Then, in chorus, ‘Unter is long, long, long,’ and a male solo voice, ‘It’s an endless journey.’”
-Vladimir Nabokov, Glory
( Generated by the overlay of east and west facing swastikas of varying sizes.)
"Thus It Transpired" Cut paper, 15x31cm, 2011.
“Thus it transpired that even Berlin could be mysterious. Within the linden's bloom the streetlight winks. A dark and honeyed hush envelops us. Across the curb one's passing shadow slinks: across a stump a sable ripples thus. The night sky melts to peach beyond that gate. There water gleams, there Venice vaguely shows. Look at that street--it runs to China straight, and yonder star above the Volga glows! Oh, swear to me to put in dreams your trust, and to believe in fantasy alone, and never let your soul in prison rust, nor stretch your arm and say: a wall of stone.”
-Vladimir Nabokov, The Gift