AH
Thinking about the exhibition and the works that are on view, both individually and as joint arrangement, a bunch of T words came to my mind, such as touch, tools, texture, time, and trace. But the one I would like to start off with is an adjacent one, it's an S word: Space. 
When I encountered Klaartje's work at De Ateliers in Amsterdam last spring, there were, among other works, two large sculptures in the room. One was a sort of pillar underneath a lamp, enveloping and marking some internal inaccessible space. The other one was equally as high, but bigger yet and could be entered. While one was largely made from paper, the other one was canvas and plaster, creating a very specific surface, as well as an inside and an outside that differed quite strongly from one another. 
My first encounter with Monique's work was, in Trittau. Right across from the entrance door and attached to the wall were some latex strips that were interwoven with each other. They bulked forward into the space as they were stretched across some furniture behind. The bulk and the weaving created a space of negotiation between the imagery and the form it was forced into. Upon closer inspection, the latex revealed some extra texture that relates to the interior as well. 
What struck me was the relationship you both foster, with different emphasis on painterly and sculptural features and how you relate them to space. So, my first question is then a rather large one: How would you describe your relationship with space, regarding your practice, and how does it shape the works here, as well as the exhibition, as a kind of joint undertaking?

KVE
Well, if I think back to the first time we entered this space, we used it as a starting point as well – where the building is situated, but also the height of the ceiling, the length of the space – and we really came to this idea that it would be nice to be able to walk through the space, meandering. Because it's such a long space, you walk from A to B.

AH
And back again.

KVE
And back. I think that was really important for us both. 

MSD
The "back again" was a big thing because it is this one long space. You have the initial moment that you see when you come in. Then you experience one exhibition. But then you have to walk all the way back, and what happens then? Is it the same space, or can you make it a different space or a different experience walking through the same space but in a different direction?

KVE
You also took the beams as framework to hang the Gebanne, and I took measurements between the ceiling and the floor but also the wall as a flat surface that is really direct also, and you had more something in mind with the radiators.

AH
I'd be curious to know why you relate so specifically to space, because especially for the painting part, it would not be necessary. It's very self-chosen to have no carrier, no backing that is self-sufficient. The other thing is your sculptures don't need to... You wouldn't have had to place it underneath the lamp, but it had a very specific relationship.

MSD
I arrived at that, or rather started to experiment with latex, at a time when I didn't work a lot with painting. It was something that created a membrane within space. I was thinking a lot about what the meeting point is between making art and the people who go to experience the art; what's the thing in-between. At some point these membranes needed to be flexible and do things as well. That's when I wanted to make the surface, that's when I came back to painting. 
What fascinated me was to combine painting with this object that creates sculptures and installations. It's the difference between what we expect from painting and what we expect from sculpture and installation. And maybe how the motif in a painting often just has its own reality – like the 2D-ness of an image – a painting has its own reality. But what if that then switches on and off between that reality and the reality of the material, of the space around it, of you in front of it. That's what I enjoy with having these 3D-text pieces, where the motif and the object-ness of it can switch on and off, and the expectations of the relationship between yourself and the thing don't really become clear. That's why space is a big tool.

KVE
I think for me it's a bit of a different approach. Already when I'm walking around in the city I am really interested in building sites or building material or some shapes that have a lot to do with architecture and the inner workings of a building. I see a building as a space that has things in it and that kind of work. I just wonder where all the electricity is coming from and all the systems that are operating in a building, kind of like blood vessels in a body. I think that is more my interest in space. And then also to approach a space with work in such a way that it is connected to the space instead of just standing in it, which could be anywhere. It's really important to acknowledge where it is. Even if it's a white cube there are always details in a space that are interesting. 

AH
What interested you most here?

KVE
It was the size of the space and the shape. And that there are windows on one side so there is light coming in from one side only. And that it's really long, really horizontal, basically. That's what fascinated me the most.

AH
What I still think is funny and fascinating is that originally, if you take out all the temporary walls, the GAK has three pillars. They are all gone now, but there are three new ones that Klaartje brought in. 
And what was it for you?

MSD
I think for me it was also the length of it in combination with the water on both sides. The movement and the stillness of this long-shaped space, and the water passing by continuously, with just a time loop in my head when I think of this building. The water is streaming by, and inside at the GAK it's so still, but it's also continuously turning out new exhibitions at a very different speed. So, the flow of it all, outside and inside, is what fascinated me a lot.

AH
Is that why you made the Gebanne flow? 

MSD
Yes. It's a way to deal with the length of it all and to think of what it would feel like walking through here. And then using the sections of the sections of the ceiling, there's a certain rhythm that's given by the building. So, I think it's a certain flow, and continuity.

AH
We can move into a bit more detail, looking at these two fingers referring to a motive depicted quite prominently in the installation of Gebanne at GAK trying to reach each other which they don't quite do, for whatever reason. Your practices do touch space in different ways, but they also do touch each other. And they both have very specific tactile qualities as well as a specific relationship to the senses that goes beyond the standard 2D-3D logic that you brought up earlier. Can you speak a bit about the materials and the strategies of working with them and how that relates to touch and texture but also their specific surfaces, especially in your practice? 

MSD
I can start with the latex. The work with the latex is very connected to touch, just because it used to touch something before it's pulled off the surface of the ground material it has been painted on. This also means that the ground material will always leave an exact trace on the latex, so the surface of the other material is always in there. With this bigger piece, with Gebanne, it's more diffuse. But with the pieces you've referred to in the beginning: The woodchip paper is a very pronounced surface, and with the radiator pieces I used lettering to come out of the surface. So there is always this trace of the carrier that is no longer there.
Touch comes through as a memory, but that can also be paired with the new carrier. The Gebanne always needs the architecture or elements that will hold it up, and that's where the old carrier meets the new one. It's a constant taking over. But also within the exhibition, within each installation, it's always temporary, so where our pieces meet, it's only for this time. And that's mostly happening with the piece in the entrance, with Opens, where it's the only time where they actually really meet and they will only be together like this for the time of this exhibition.

KVE
They really become one work for now, and then they part ways again. But I really like that the thin and smoother surface of the latex is together with the heavier and more sharp-edged plaster that I work with. That's a nice contrast as well in material use. For me, the plaster does a lot of work itself already. 
I work very quickly. So with these Pillars, it's made of laminated paper, which is used as a stucco runner to cover the floor when you're plastering the wall. But here I put the plaster on top of it. This has to be done really quickly because the plaster will dry out and I have a whole bucket that I need to use. And then there's all these wrinkles starting to happen, and I don't have time to think about it too much. I really like that the texture also becomes rough, a bit more tree-barky. But also with the plaster in the Crayons, it's more – also I think combined with the colors – more something edible almost, you want to... I have the tendency to touch it.

AH
I can very much relate to that. I also like to touch everything, and some materials lend themselves more to it than others. 

Guest 1
When you work together, your work becomes something. But I think the combination makes your work become something else. And now the whole time I am looking at this drawing, and it looks like a park to me. It's a park in which things are happening. This could be a climbing wall or something else related to nature. So I wonder if you thought about making a park together?

MSD
It's funny that you say that. When we were talking about how the space could feel with our installation in it, we were talking a lot about it being like a forest: How every element could feel when you walk through it. How things are happening from the ceiling to the ground. How things get into your way. I think it was more of a forest feeling that we were trying to...

KVE
Definitely, yeah.

MSD
The entrance piece also shows some mangroves, working together as one environment in the space.

KVE
I also thought about it like an ecosystem where one thing holds the other thing or does another thing – for example with the opening piece, Opens – does the latex press my part of the sculpture down or does my sculpture press yours up, or I don't know. That's what I really like about the exhibition: That it coexists. And the Opens piece was also a good starting gesture for "we are okay doing this together." 

AH
What brought you to that decision which was made very early on? The sketch of that work is the image on the invite and the poster. Opensis the only joint piece. It has one title whereas the pillar and the latex here also touch but that's two individual pieces that remain two individual pieces. So, what brought you to that? I know there was conversations about how trees negotiate, how there is – especially with the mangroves – a situation between the water and the land fostering some ecosystem amid its roots, a notion of taking root with each other.[1] But what brought you to that decision? 

MSD 
I think it's the question of how you approach an exhibition together. Do we want to have our pieces displayed next to each other and use this nice opportunity to just display our works and utilize time and space that way? Or do we actually try things out together? What else could happen when two artists meet?

KVE
We also didn't know each other before.

MSD
How precious are you with your pieces? How precious are you with your own space? So, I think that was one of the first things that we discussed and tried to feel out: How close can you get, and how much can you try that maybe is not completely in your control when you collaborate with another artist. I was really happy that that was possible.

KVE
It was like a welcoming gesture towards each other and towards the works being together.

MSD
I think showing pieces to one another is a thing. It's a very temporary piece. It's very direct and it sets the tone. If that's possible, then I'm happy. That's how we can approach it.

Guest 1
What was your function in the dialogue as a curator? Just inviting them and waiting for a surprise?

AH
Sort of. It always depends on the invite. That also sets the tone. It is about what do I write, how do I approach people, why do I tell them I want them to exhibit together. I think that also does something.
When people come here: what do I tell them about the space? Of course, they have their own eyes and everything, but still, that also shapes things: How you show a space to somebody and how you introduce the space, what you talk about. But apart from that: Waiting for surprises. I do trust a lot in that. Of course, a group show is different, but in many cases that's all you have to do if you choose wisely in the beginning. Trust is also very crucial in allowing things to happen.

Guest 1
So, did you choose first? Did you say "Oh, I would like to have some pillars, and a long painting which is not on the wall."

AH
No. But I had encountered the works before and, well, I don't know if I exactly expected that the Pillar would come as it came and also that Gebanne would hang here as it is, but of course it's not a surprise. 
I can imagine something that is maybe not a fully furnished exhibition, but enough of an idea to know that it's going to go well. Of course, it was exciting when they met each other here because it could go completely off. Sometimes you can't smell each other, right?
Maybe it's not true, but I think many things show in the work. When there is a certain care and a certain hint at what you value, what you can talk about, how I am welcomed to the studio this is also something. It's a puzzle, let's say, but it's also a lot of waiting for surprises because that's the exciting part. If I know it already, I don't have to do it. I usually ask people out for shows because I want to see what they do with the space, not because I want to tell them what to do with the space. It's a bit like a blind date. I hope you felt that way too

AH
What brought you to that decision? Because it was decided very early on. It's also the image of the sketch that's on the invite and the poster. Well, Opens, or the joint work that there is, is the only one that has one title whereas here the pillar and the latex also touch but that's two individual pieces that remain two individual pieces. So, what brought you to that? I know there was conversations about how trees negotiate, how there is – especially with the mangroves – a situation between the water and the land fostering some sort of ecosystem indeed in and around its roots and taking root with each other. But what brought you to that decision to, well, to shadow sculpture and then feel latex? Bluntly put.

MSD 
I think it's also the question of how you approach an exhibition together. Do we want to have our pieces displayed next to each other and use this nice opportunity to just display our works and utilize this time and space that way? Or do we actually try things out together? What else could happen when two artists meet?

KVE
We also didn't know each other before.

MSD
How precious are you with your pieces? How precious are you with your own space? So, I think that was one of the first things that we discussed and tried to feel out: How close you can get, and how much you can try that maybe is not completely in your control when you collaborate with another artist. I was really happy that that was possible.

KVE
It was like a welcoming gesture towards each other and towards the works being together.

MSD
I think showing pieces to one another is a thing. It's a very temporary piece. It's very direct and it sets the tone. If that's possible, then I'm happy. That's how we can approach it.

Guest 1
What was your function as a curator? What was your function in the dialogue? Just inviting them and waiting for a surprise?

AH
Sort of. It always depends on the invite. That also sets the tone. It is about what do I write, how do I approach people, why do I tell them I want them to exhibit together. I think that also does something.
When people come here, what do I tell them about the space? Of course, they have their own eyes and everything, but still, that also shapes things: How you show a space to somebody and how you introduce the space, what you talk about. But apart from that: Waiting for surprises. I do trust a lot in that. Of course, a group show is different, but in many cases that's all you have to do if you chose wisely in the beginning. It sounds a bit weird. I think that's quite crucial and trust is also very crucial in allowing things to happen.

Guest 1
So, did you choose first? Did you say "Oh, I would like to have some pillars, and a long painting which is not on the wall."

AH
No, of course it was no surprise because I encountered the works and, well, the Pillars are no surprise. I don't know if I exactly expected that the Pillar would come as it came and also that Gebanne would hang here as it is, but of course it's not a surprise. 
It's all in the work and how you encounter it. I can imagine something that is maybe not a fully furnished exhibition, but it's enough of an idea to know that it's going to go well. Of course, it was a bit exciting when they met because it could go completely off. Sometimes you can't smell each other, right? And then it doesn't go well. So that was a bit of an exciting moment for all of us in some ways. 
Maybe it's not true, but I think many things show in the work. When there are a certain care and a certain hint at what you value, what you can talk about, how do you also welcome me to the studio is also something. It's not just me welcoming people here, but I can get an idea from how people welcome me to the studio. It's a puzzle, let's say, but it's also a lot of waiting for surprises because that's the exciting part. If I know it already, I don't have to do it. I usually ask people out for shows because I want to see what they do with the space, not because I want to tell them what to do with the space. It's a bit like a blind date. I hope you felt that way too. 

MSD
It was really nice that we had a lot of freedom in that sense. To figure it out.

AH
And especially in the twosome situation, let's say. It's maybe a bit different if it's a one-on-one. If there's one artist and one curator, then there's maybe a bit more of a... But it's not always good if the third person just always jumps in. It's something two people are figuring out with each other. So, it was a lot of waiting for your conversation. Which I could read along, though. Because part of it happened in a Google Doc. Maybe it wasn't that big of a surprise in the end. I'm really fascinated by the water situation, still.
That is kind of... It mirrors my... I have that issue with that very elongated space as well. That you walk in, and then you have to turn around at this dead end back there. And walk all the way back again, and it's so very long. And you can get bored very easily. At least I can get bored very easily. So, that's the best-case scenario. But it's, of course, also what I desire in works. It's mutual most of the time.
I don't know where we left it before that question, unfortunately. But I think I was curious why it would be desirable to actually have works touch each other. It's not self-explanatory. So why were you interested in that in the first place? 

KVE
It's a nice opening gesture. And I think the materials of our works really lend themselves to that. Or being a good combination. I also wonder how that would be if they were not really a good combination. If we would still let the works touch each other.
But it felt very logical as well. Because the moment you're meeting each other for the first time //you ask yourself// how are you going to do that together. Because it's a very big space. And it's a big exhibition that we wanted to do. So then you have to find a way. And I think this opened up a lot of possibilities.

AH
We also talked about value and preciousness. It's something that maybe also is embedded not only in the materiality, but in the work in general. To kind of look onto either the electricity pipes, or these sorts of appliances, or being a pillar, or a lamp that shines into a space that nobody can ever enter. But also making sculptures that you use up. I mean, the Crayons are a continuous use of material. So where does the material lead you?
Or your latex is going to dissolve or be too fragile at a certain moment. And that fragility... You stretch it still, and it rips but that's all right. So, there's maybe also something that goes beyond the material side of it, and how they lend each other to touching, rather than also being used, which may lead on to the Lawrence Weiner.

MSD
Yeah, it's exciting. It's exciting to open your own work up to everything, to another work where the other person puts so much into it. So, we kind of work on each other's things, and have our thoughts and our reasonings why this thing looks the way it looks. And it's just exciting to break out of that and invite something else in, and to have it do something nice. And I guess it's a bit dangerous to the material because it's not used to it. But I do like to not think of the material, to not be too precious to the material, as you mentioned before. 

AH
With the material or with the artwork?

MSD
Both.

AH
Do you make a difference? 

MSD
Yes, both with the material, and also with the artwork. I think the same way about the question of how you go into a space and have two people exhibit things that they could do next to each other, or they could do something new and exciting. It's exciting to just try something out, and at the same time I do like to stress the material and the artworks. And that way, if it rips, then it also marks a point in time. I remember where the rips happened, and which exhibition it was, and why. And it's fine, it's part of it.

KVE
Yes, I think that's a big overlap we have in the practice as well. That we don't want to keep it the same forever. We're okay with something decaying or something transforming over time. 

MSD
It was really nice that we had a lot of freedom in that sense. To figure it out.

AH
And especially in the twosome situation. It's not always good if a third person always jumps in. So, it was a lot of waiting for your conversation. Which I could read along, because part of it happened in a Google Doc. 
Maybe it wasn't that big of a surprise in the end. I'm really fascinated by the water situation, still. And I have that issue with the very elongated space as well. That you walk in, and then you have to turn around at this dead end back there. And walk all the way back again, and it's so very long. And you can get bored very easily. At least I can get bored very easily. So, in that sense this show is the best-case scenario. 
I don't know where we left it before that question, unfortunately. But I think I was curious why it would be desirable to actually have works touch each other. It's not self-explanatory. So why were you interested in that in the first place? 

KVE
It's a nice opening gesture. And I think the materials of our works really lend themselves to that or they are a good combination. I wonder how that would be if they were not a good combination. If we would still let the works touch each other.

AH
We also talked about value and preciousness. It's something that is embedded not only in the materiality, but in the work in general. To kind of look onto either the electricity pipes, or these sorts of appliances, or being a pillar, or a lamp that shines into a space that nobody can ever enter. [1] [2] But also making sculptures that you use up. I mean, the Crayons are a continuous use of material. So where does the material lead you?
Or your latex is going to dissolve or be too fragile at a certain moment. And that fragility... You stretch it still, and it rips but that's alright. So, there's maybe also something that goes beyond the material side of it, and how they lend each other to touching.

MSD
It's exciting to open your own work up to everything, also to another work where the other person put so much into it. We kind of work on our things, have our thoughts and our reasonings why something looks the way it looks. It's exciting to break out of that and invite something else in, and to have it do something nice. I guess it's a bit dangerous to the material because it's not used to it but I do like to not be too precious with the material. 

AH
With the material or with the artwork?

MSD
Both.

AH
Do you make a difference? 

MSD
Yes, both with the material and the artwork. It's exciting to try something out, and at the same time I do like to stress the material and the artworks. If it rips, then it also marks a point in time. I remember where the rips happened, and which exhibition it was, and why. And it's fine, it's part of it.

KVE
I think that's a big overlap we have in the practice as well. That we don't want to keep it the same forever. We're okay with something decaying or something transforming over time. 

MSD
It has also to do with the monetary value of a piece having paintings that are too big to fit into a space and then, at the same time, decay when you exhibit them. It's thinking about what you expect from a painting. 

KVE
I really like that maybe a year from now it's a different painting, but it's also the same. I think that's nice. I made these drawings with the Crayon Rocks, and I used one Rock up fully, and now it has disappeared. It has totally gone into the space, but then it's also not fully gone because there's the dust still and the marks on the wall. So, the rock is kind of gone, but the material is still there in a different form. But after this exhibition, I think it will end somewhere in a dustbin. I don't know where it will go then.

AH
To you, maybe. There is something about this recycling aspect. The dust is maybe where it's going to end, but maybe not. Or what does it mean having used up the material or not. You have a lot of recycling strategies in your practice. How one leads to the other. Maybe you can talk about that. 

KVE
In my studio, there are a lot of things happening. I use something to protect the floor, but that also becomes a work when I put it upright. And then I have uncountable of some plaster, and I pour it into a mold, and it becomes a Rock, and it becomes a drawing, and it becomes dust. Also, the wax that I mix into the Rocks and into the drawing is also the mixing trays. I scrape them out, and I think "Hey, wait, this is nice. I should make something out of this, too." kind of blurring the line of what is a tool and what's an artwork, and what you use, and what can be discarded in that sense, and what is being valued because the contrast is pretty big between the worth of an artwork and a stone you find on the street. It's really nice to question that a little bit. And to find artworks everywhere. They could be anywhere. Of course, you make a choice, but it is still opening yourself up for these little moments where you find something in your studio or in the kitchen while you're cooking. And sometimes they're very temporary. 
Sometimes you cannot take it home or you cannot take it to an exhibition space. But I also take a lot of pictures of those things, and then they end up as a drawing again. 

AH
Time is also very crucial, kind of going back to the marking in time that you brought up, Monique, but also time in general. In the Scratched Sketches it's most apparent, because the time span before the wax dries is extremely short. Or before the plaster dries up, but you have to make a whole pillar, otherwise it's not going to turn out. So there's also this time constraint that comes into the practice. The momentary situation of the exhibition where something happens right now, and then it's kind of gone, also maybe happens in a similar way in your processes.

But speaking of time, maybe it's nice to move on to a trace that is slightly different from the other traces in the exhibition, which is the Lawrence Weiner[2], that is inscribed into the radiator pieces. It relates to the encounter with the building. You probably all know the Lawrence Weiner that is outside, "Having been built on sand, but with another base (basis) in fact". That kind of stuck with you. Then you did research and encountered some other works that are connected to the work outside. And now these radiator pieces carry as a relief the line, "If erosion is in fact a marking in time, then is use a meaning, or again, in fact, is meaning a use?" There's many words in it that deserve a closer look in the context of the exhibition, and one is "time", but the other notions are "use" and "meaning". And that also can be expanded to the notion of value that has popped up several times. So, Weiner suggests that use and meaning mutually affect each other, and that continues to ecology and extraction and entails a multitude of thoughts. How do you situate yourself and your practices within these notions? And maybe we can start with the extraction, roll it up backwards, possibly.

MSD
The way that I arrived at the Weiner quote also has a role in it, because I kind of knew that I wanted to connect to the building directly and – especially with the radiator pieces – I looked into the history of and the use of the building and what it means. 
Since it was intially a storage for tobacco and coffee, I thought I could get somewhere with that. Especially since, with the latex pieces too, it made sense to talk about the material itself. With painting you often forget the material that you paint with, it becomes an object itself, but it makes sense to think about the material. So that took me to the history of latex which is rooted in colonialism and the extraction of the material and what comes with that. So that's where I started out, and that's also more in the foreground with other pieces.
But then I didn't quite land anywhere. Looking at the outside of the building, I met the Weiner quote and somehow it just rang a bell on a more abstract level, because we've been talking a lot about what interests us in erosion and the space and the meaning of it all. Same with the overlaying of the motif and the text here, but also the double motif of having a reference to the material itself that comes through the motif. When thinking of extraction, that's what I think about.

KVE
I also have done some research on plaster since I work a lot with that. And it's a natural mining product, but it's also produced in an industrial process, which probably also relates somehow. But I don't always think about it, I must say.

AH
But you do think a lot about use and meaning, no?

KVE
That's true. I think it is nice when a work has something to do – like a pillar is holding up a building: that it's stacking or it's drawing  like the Crayon Rocks or it's eroding or it has its own kind of use and maybe finds meaning in that. It's really a chicken and egg situation. 
It's maybe good to know there's no structure inside of the Pillar, it's just stacked and squeezed. And then paper creates the shape but it also needed to be hardened out somehow. And that's why I also used the plaster and the fabric to make it stable again, but they are draped over the paper, so I think they need each other. 

AH
They consist of six individual pieces, which is quite convenient considering transportation and storage and all those kinds of things. But there's also a bunch of piling up in the exhibition. There's the piling of the Pillars, the piling of the latex in the front, the piling of these red rounded shapes on the radiator pieces, the piling of the Crayon Rocks. So, a lot of things that kind of collide also. Is that something that happened by chance? 

KVE
I think it's a nice repetition. Yeah, it is a pile, but it's also a repetition that is slightly different every time. I really like that. It just enlarges the work also.

MSD
I think it's – in some parts – a response to each other as well. So, the piling of the items on the radiator pieces is referring to the dozen as a storage unit, a measurement of items, referring to this space being previously used as a storage. I think the piling of the Crayons is a response to that. 
And I guess the pile of latex behind these hands // referring to hands featured prominently on Gebanne // is just a pile of latex. It just happens through the reality of there not being enough space for the whole of Gebanne. It’s maybe two different things that still create repetition and something to latch onto when building connections between the pieces.

KVE
Maybe when the Pillars are back in the studio, I will pile them up differently or lay them down or they're kind of blocks that I can use in a different way, like Lego. But maybe not. 

AH
My last question would concern the title, as it is a bit opaque. How can you arrange erosion, for example? It feels like a contradiction to me, somehow. And then there's a bunch of constellations in the space about the 'We', the 'I', the 'You'. Like 'We' Sink, 'I' Stretch, 'You' Flow. So, who are these people that are doing something? Are they doing something? 

MSD
The title came out of the letters that you were able to read between us. When we were writing back and forth about what we want with this exhibition, and how we want to work together, and what we are interested in. So, I think that erosion or the interest in decaying or losing something over time was something that was important. But also thinking "What does a forest do?" The title describes a negotiation of creating an exhibition together.

KVE
We had to build it up at one point whereas in a forest everything just pops up time after time and it takes a long time during which things are arranged. But here, we had to arrange it ourselves, see how to place everything and how to approach the space together, also with erosion being a part of it: Erosion feels really timeless or scattered, really directionless – we had to arrange that somehow. So it's a process-based title. 

MSD
Erosion is something that just happens. But, of course, an exhibition is an artificial situation that we're creating. Maybe with common interests involved. So it's mostly two parties trying to create something out of the two histories that come with us and the two interests, or the interests that collide and have to be negotiated. We talked about looking at it like a contract. That's where the 'We', 'You', and 'I' come in. What is happening is: things affect each other. 
Sinking is a two-party thing as well: Something sinks into something else, stretching – same thing as two forces meeting, flowing. It's just those thoughts around the situation. So, I think it's an amalgamation of our thoughts of what we wanted to do, and what the things maybe can do. 

KVE
Yes, what should you do, what is your work doing, what shall I do, and back and forth. And then also the “sink” and the “flow” relates to the water around the building, and that we sink in here for a little bit. 

Guest 5
I was actually wondering about this erosion topic a lot. And with the Pillars, assuming already that they can fall – maybe it was just a thought about what happens within. But also the Rocks, for example: I was really wondering – because it is really tempting to use them – if someone used them in the exhibition or not.

AH
Like a visitor? 

Guest 5
Yes.

AH
Not as far as I know, but we don't count them every day.

[1] Opens is a joint work by Monique S. Desto and Klaartje van Essen. The motif of the mangrove trees with their network of roots refers to the Teerhofinsel, on which the GAK stands virtually in the middle of the water and, like the mangroves, is washed around and washed out by water. There is another aspect to the forest motif that interested the two artists, namely the way in which trees mediate between closeness and distance. Trees and forest plants have techniques for supporting each other, but not getting so close that they restrict each other.

[2] Lawrence Weiner published an album with Dickie Landry in 1979 where the phrase "Having been built on sand but on another base (basis)" features prominently as both album title and a recurring line in multiple songs. The phrase was painted on the GAK outside wall facing the river. It appears along the line that Monique S. Desto used in her radiator pieces.