A third space emerges in the exhibition Eyebag Privacy Muppet. I imagine it as a hotel room or another place that is at once intimate and anonymous, private and public, dirty and clean. Hotels can be for people to do things they might not wish to do at home: places of drama, sex, secrets, or even murder. In this exhibition, such a space forms in different ways, shaped by tensions between desire and boundaries, visibility and secrecy.

For both Kea Bolenz and Elsa Estrella, proximity plays a central role: the closeness of the body to the object, of the gaze to the image, and of viewers to their own inner landscapes. The objects in Estrella’s work and the bodies in Bolenz’s drawings become carriers of a certain fantasy. Estrella’s assemblages open up material and cinematic archives, showing how objects can initiate or interrupt stories. Bolenz’s drawings, on the other hand, reveal psychological and bodily spaces in which narratives begin to form. In these small-format worlds, figures blur into ambiguous, sometimes unsettling gestures that distort domestic spaces and the idea of normality.

In Elsa Estrella’s sculptural arrangements, scenes unfold like fragments of a film without following a linear narrative. Found objects, miniatures, display boxes, paper fragments and everyday containers form carefully staged constellations. Referencing the excess of Hollywood melodrama, the installations use fragmentation and repetition to open new narrative portals. Here, the objects themselves take centre stage: standing in for absent bodies, acting as vessels of memory, props, or small disturbances. Viewers must physically approach them – bend down, step closer, lean in – to engage with these abandoned micro-stages. Estrella is particularly drawn to objects that oscillate between fiction and self-design, things a person might archive for their future self. Hats, light boxes, miniatures, a leather curtain and other domestic remnants become actors in a story that does not progress but accumulates in layers, or happens only in traces: adhesive residue, pencil marks.

In Kea Bolenz’s work, the space is the drawing itself: an intimate field of bodies, animals, shadows and dream-fragments that appear through fine lines yet evade clear definition. The delicate drawings examine how everyday life intertwines with erotic fantasies and deviant pleasures, how sensations of disgust and desire collapse into each other. At their core, the works open a space for female lust – contradictory, underexplored, socially unspoken –, where pleasure becomes polymorphous and fluid, offering an alternative to narratives shaped by shame and sublimation. In this twilight zone, distinctions between inside and outside, human and animal, self and other lose their weight, giving room to an insistently personal form of longing.

Exhibition Text and Floorplan

A third space emerges in the exhibition Eyebag Privacy Muppet. I imagine it as a hotel room or another place that is at once intimate and anonymous, private and public, dirty and clean. Hotels can be for people to do things they might not wish to do at home: places of drama, sex, secrets, or even murder. In this exhibition, such a space forms in different ways, shaped by tensions between desire and boundaries, visibility and secrecy.

For both Kea Bolenz and Elsa Estrella, proximity plays a central role: the closeness of the body to the object, of the gaze to the image, and of viewers to their own inner landscapes. The objects in Estrella’s work and the bodies in Bolenz’s drawings become carriers of a certain fantasy. Estrella’s assemblages open up material and cinematic archives, showing how objects can initiate or interrupt stories. Bolenz’s drawings, on the other hand, reveal psychological and bodily spaces in which narratives begin to form. In these small-format worlds, figures blur into ambiguous, sometimes unsettling gestures that distort domestic spaces and the idea of normality.

In Elsa Estrella’s sculptural arrangements, scenes unfold like fragments of a film without following a linear narrative. Found objects, miniatures, display boxes, paper fragments and everyday containers form carefully staged constellations. Referencing the excess of Hollywood melodrama, the installations use fragmentation and repetition to open new narrative portals. Here, the objects themselves take centre stage: standing in for absent bodies, acting as vessels of memory, props, or small disturbances. Viewers must physically approach them – bend down, step closer, lean in – to engage with these abandoned micro-stages. Estrella is particularly drawn to objects that oscillate between fiction and self-design, things a person might archive for their future self. Hats, light boxes, miniatures, a leather curtain and other domestic remnants become actors in a story that does not progress but accumulates in layers, or happens only in traces: adhesive residue, pencil marks.

In Kea Bolenz’s work, the space is the drawing itself: an intimate field of bodies, animals, shadows and dream-fragments that appear through fine lines yet evade clear definition. The delicate drawings examine how everyday life intertwines with erotic fantasies and deviant pleasures, how sensations of disgust and desire collapse into each other. At their core, the works open a space for female lust – contradictory, underexplored, socially unspoken –, where pleasure becomes polymorphous and fluid, offering an alternative to narratives shaped by shame and sublimation. In this twilight zone, distinctions between inside and outside, human and animal, self and other lose their weight, giving room to an insistently personal form of longing.

Exhibition Text and Floorplan