Walk the same route enough times and the city disappears. Not literally, you still see the buildings, but your attention stops registering most of it. A cracked tile, a particular graffiti tag, the transition of different types of pavements. All of it is there. None of it reaches you anymore.

Der Unbekannte Einwanderer takes that filtered-out material and puts it back in front of you, out of place, so you notice it again. A projection of walking feet moves across the floor, drifting through the city, as photographic fragments appear briefly on the wall to vanish without warning. Nothing loops. Nothing repeats.

The sequence renders live, so no two visitors get the same walk. What builds up is not a document of the city but a shifting field of the things a place is actually made of, the parts memory and habit usually edit out once they are common. Familiar and slightly foreign at the same time, because you’re seeing your own city through a lens you’d stopped using.

Every show is new, shot in the neighborhood around the venue, so locals recognize it. They just don’t recognize it like this.