THE LABYRINTH - Goldsmiths MFA Group Exhibition

A Labyrinth

The labyrinth is not confusing.
It’s a system that keeps things out of reach.
Nothing appears all at once. Things repeat, stop, disappear, come back differently. You understand it slowly, through

getting lost, returning, waiting.

The labyrinth is not mythology anymore.
It exists in everyday life, in the corridor of an apartment building where every door looks the same and you suddenly

stop knowing where you are. Familiarity itself starts to feel strange.

To enter a labyrinth is to give up moving straight ahead.
The body slows down. It turns back, pauses, doubts itself. Every direction feels uncertain. The movement is physical, but

also emotional shaped by fear, anticipation, memory, instinct.

You learn the labyrinth early.
As a child, it lives inside familiar places that suddenly no longer feel safe. A door you hesitate to open. A hallway that

changes at night. You learn space through tension, through guessing what might happen, through testing where safety ends.

Across memory, images, and space, the labyrinth keeps returning as a condition. It is built from repetition, from archives, from ordinary structures, from things carried since childhood.

Inside a Labyrinth space and distance become a gesture against disappearance. The Violence occupation of the Labyrinth destroys conditions of intimacy, reduced to a nostalgia tied to a place.

The distance does not trap you. It changes the way you move, the way you look, the way you understand where you are.

There is no clear entrance.
No final way out.
Only the movement through it.