Circus excess, aestheticized arbitrariness and comic awkwardness are some of the impressions evoked by the shifted perception of the performer and the author of this installation, Paul Skrepek and Andreas Platzer. However, it would be naïve to claim that their creation, which looks like a mobile museum of rusty metal, repeatedly trampled toys and revived instruments, does also not reflect the utmost gravity as well as tragedy of human nature. That is, for nearly eight years since its creation and through continuous upgrading of the installation because of the discovery of potential new sound objects and performance spaces, the authors have very suggestively reminded of the environmental responsibility of man vs. nature. However, the portent of these machines is far more positive and goes beyond a subtle instruction or a warning to its audience.
The skillfully assembled parts of the old bike, stuffed toys, carousel, violin, paints, paper and brush etc. create a concise layout of an imaginary world between a child’s and an adult's one, in which simple messages written on objects or objects themselves, simple and discarded, speak of uncorrupted human nature, sincerity and man’s innate inventiveness. In this installation, inventiveness is deliberately awkward as the author’s aim is to demonstrate the inevitability of mistakes that occur within the installation as a hardware, but also in communication with its creator and user, a human being. The focus is therefore less on the aesthetics which inevitably results from randomness, and more on the relationship between man and machine and the process of creating and continuously upgrading the installation. After all, coming face to face with machines is more than just listening to sound objects. It is also a very rich visual and distinctly temporal experience: the sound is accompanied by images and movements, some of which change their initial form into movement, and others are created only by moving with the sound.
