Virginia Ariu / Xenia Bond / COBRA / Maria Cozma / Sofia Duchovny / Ignaz Freer / Carrie McGrath / Charly Mirambeau / Vincenzo Ottino / Matthieu Palud / James Sturkey / Xtina Vargas
Philipp Quehenberger live
Another Wig
21.03 - 15.05.2026
James Sturkey
Maria Cozma
Virginia Ariu
Virginia Ariu
Virginia Ariu
James Sturkey
Mathieu Palud
Carrie McGrath
Xenia Bond
COBRA
Xenia Bond
James Sturkey
Mathieu Palud
Ignaz Freer
Vincenzo Ottino
Sofia Duchovny
Xtina Vargas
James Sturkey
Maria Cozma
Carrie McGrath
Charly Mirambaeu
A text about having a trick up ones sleeve, there is more where that came from, when you don´t expect it, I have more there, and there is enough for everybody.
It helps to keep something in reserve.
Not in a calculating way, not like a magician rehearsing the same surprise forever. More like an understanding: the surface is rarely the whole thing. You see what is presented and assume that is the supply. That the gesture has spent itself. That the sleeve is empty. But it isn’t.
There is another thing there. Not dramatic. Just waiting for the moment when the first arrangement stops being sufficient. Then the hand moves again and something else appears, as if it had been there all along—which, in fact, it has. In 2013, during a performance of Whip My Hair, the principle was demonstrated with perfect clarity: Underneath Roxxxy Andrews wig; ANOTHER WIG.
Think of the logic of the reveal. The outer form doing its job, performing its completeness, while another version is already prepared beneath it. The choreography of excess disguised as restraint. The trick wasn’t the surprise. The trick was the preparation. You don’t empty the sleeve at once. You let people believe they have already seen the extent of it. Then, when attention loosens—when the moment thinks it has settled—you reach again. Whip my hair. And there it is. Another piece, the opposite of scarcity. And the quiet generosity of it is this: there is plenty. There is enough.
-Antonia Lia Orsi
It helps to keep something in reserve.
Not in a calculating way, not like a magician rehearsing the same surprise forever. More like an understanding: the surface is rarely the whole thing. You see what is presented and assume that is the supply. That the gesture has spent itself. That the sleeve is empty. But it isn’t.
There is another thing there. Not dramatic. Just waiting for the moment when the first arrangement stops being sufficient. Then the hand moves again and something else appears, as if it had been there all along—which, in fact, it has. In 2013, during a performance of Whip My Hair, the principle was demonstrated with perfect clarity: Underneath Roxxxy Andrews wig; ANOTHER WIG.
Think of the logic of the reveal. The outer form doing its job, performing its completeness, while another version is already prepared beneath it. The choreography of excess disguised as restraint. The trick wasn’t the surprise. The trick was the preparation. You don’t empty the sleeve at once. You let people believe they have already seen the extent of it. Then, when attention loosens—when the moment thinks it has settled—you reach again. Whip my hair. And there it is. Another piece, the opposite of scarcity. And the quiet generosity of it is this: there is plenty. There is enough.
-Antonia Lia Orsi