In summer 2014 IMMA resident Antonia Low was invited to be part of Dating Service Oslo/Berlin, an exhibition curated by Andreas Schlaegel, at the independent exhibition space AUTOCENTER (Berlin). The show paired nearly 40 artists from both cities to work together. Soon after accepting the proposition Low discovered her selected partner had with-drawn from the exhibition, stirring up unexpected feelings of rejection.

Low decided to address three postcards to the renegade artist. Her text focuses on the alignment of some exceptional experiences she had in her initial days in Dublin creating a lonesome dark undertone in contrast to the iconic imagery of the popular tourist locations on the front of the cards. The cards were posted to the gallery and displayed in the gallery window where both sides were visible.

Low split her IMMA residency in two and we are delighted to have her back with us, since Monday 20^th April 2015, to finish out her final month living and working at the Museum.

POST CARD 1

The cab passes walls made of grey stone blocks, narrow brick houses, glass facades, again grey stone walls, and finally stops in front of a high entrance. The cast-iron gate is closed. With precision I speak my name in front of an intercom that is built into the massive stonework of the portal. Slowly the gate opens, I step in. With a peculiar calmness the bars close behind my back. I sleep twelve hours in the new bed. As I awaken, the sky above is dull and grey. Through the roof hatch a security guard watches me, then turns away.

POST CARD 2

My mobile phone fails to send answers to incoming messages. The internet connection stalls, the virus protection blocks the ports. My computer does not recognise the external hard disk any longer. Its internal utility programme refuses to repair the device, another programme cannot recognise any existing data. It is Friday afternoon. I leave my location and walk to a distant bus stop. A bus takes me to town. I get off at the wrong stop, I search for a shop, but realise that I forgot the PIN to my credit card. It starts to rain. I see men secretly drink gargle. Aghast I get into a cab that drives me back to the museum.

POST CARD 3

At night I awaken to an ear-piercing noise. From the roof hatch I see a heavy aircraft steering towards the museum’s lawn. I step into the dark night and run towards the loud, air-beating object. It lands on the grass, its lights blinking red. Now, out of the dark, a smaller, blue blinking vehicle appears which manoeuvres towards the other creature. Doors open and men surge out of the aircraft carrying a body covered in white. They disappear inside the bright vehicle and shut the doors. The aircraft howls, its propeller whips the grass in the beam of its searchlight. It drizzles. For a long while they stand opposite each other, the machines blinking red and the blue. They converse about the small creatures that they carry along. They fuss about the meaning of their enormous existence. Much later the vehicle carefully starts to move. When it passes, I glance into the bright interior and see someone injured. Then the helicopter takes off, its searchlight bathes me in the same harsh white light. For a moment, I am set into a space as light as day, isolated from the museum ground at night. Then it releases me with a ghastly roar.

Antonia Low takes the means of expression in her art from interaction with the environment as a consciously applied instrument. Her installations make reference to spatial circumstances. Through re-evaluations, disclosures, and allocations, Low thematises their different aspects and finds new points of emphasis. She pursues the overlap of different layers of temporality and spatiality and brings the transitory substance of spaces to light.