a lone lamp sends its signal into the deepening evening. at first glance, it appears to be a defective object; on closer inspection, a regularity emerges. they are morse codes, translated from a personal love letter, that the lamp plays in cyclical intervals. day after day, at the same hour, it sends its call outward.

a single day is scrutinised in minute detail. data extracted from a digital footprint, from mobile phones and computers, forms the basis for a retelling of that day. at regular intervals, a voice announces the collected details: message histories, internet activity, gps data, financial transactions. they reconstruct a person’s behaviour down to the smallest detail. a narrative emerges that appears objective, yet carries a certain weight.

according to google, it takes an average of seven minutes to smoke a cigarette. in one day breath, a day is represented by 240 smoked cigarettes. the objects scattered throughout the room, realistic-looking cigarette butts produced by a 3d printer, spread out like breath itself. they speak of a person’s absence: an image of the passing of time, made measurable by a person’s statistical breathing volume.

a password that has already become redundant was taken from the digital realm and transformed into a physical illuminated banner. the password, which once belonged to a facebook account, was stripped of its secrecy and made publicly visible. installed high up in the room, it remains both visible and slightly concealed.

two spotlights, separated by an inner courtyard, exchange love letters in morse code. connected via radio antennas, they remain in constant contact with one another. though physically separated, they are simultaneously linked through digital communication. the installation deliberately engages with the architectural conditions of the site. distance and longing become the central theme.