Project 004

Nils Ben Brahim: “Dog Days in Hasenheide”
November 1 — December 15, 2024
c/o Miettinen Collection | Salon Dahlmann

Curated by Domenico Positano

Dog Days in Hasenheide by Nils Ben Brahim is the first solo exhibition for the artist in Berlin.

 

We look up at them.

On that random day in summer, at an interchangeable time. We lie in the dead grass that pricks our skin. Ants build paths over our hands, slowly melting into the ground. Our bodies become one with the dry earth. The air is sour and warm and heavy with fumes. Together, apart, alone, together. Not quite nearly fine. The heat settles over everything like a weight. Roads gleam in the distance as if they had dissolved themselves, and every breath tastes of colored dust. Time is a concept without contours. Our movements slow down as if they have to fight their way through an invisible layer. The heat has its own dimension of stillness. These days it seems as if the world is no longer in a hurry, as if it has finally let go to just be - somewhere between inertia and expectation. No clouds in the sky. We now believe this could be it - the solution perhaps, or just another moment. Transience challenges us: we persist in continuous change. Moments pass in memory. Soon we will have forgotten. But soon is an indeterminate time, vague. Shortly. In the foreseeable future. Perhaps never. The outlines of our bodies in the grass will deform again. Our traces will fade. We construct our worlds by deconstructing realities. Let me get what I want this time. Haven’t had a dream in a long time. The feeling of constantly failing pervades everyday life like a quiet background noise. We have to keep going. We try again. We fail again. We fail better. We lie in the grass. They look down at us and we look up at them. Because we have already lost. But in the end, all dogs go to heaven.

They look down at us.

 

Text by Marla Heid