down on the cloth like a thunder shower

…meat loaf, corned beef, anchovy, fat, onion, flour, salt, white bread or roll. Chop 6 beans of corned beef and 1 bean of anchovy finely. Mix 1 bean of flour with a hazelnut-sized piece of white bread or roll, previously softened in water and passed through a sieve. A pea-sized piece of finely chopped onion is lightly roasted in 3 dollops of fat, removed from the heat and both the meat mixture and the white bread mixture and 1/2 grain of salt are added. Knead the whole thing (with completely clean hands!) until it forms a firm mass. Then dip your fingers in cold water and use the wet tips to form a hemisphere from the meat, which is then dusted with flour (now dry hands!). The ball is then flattened like a round loaf of bread and fried in 6 dollops of hot fat. Baste it diligently, just like with roast veal, so that the minced meat gets a nice crust. Serve alongside nut-sized peeled potatoes, boiled in 18 tears. Meanwhile, doll up! An outfit suggestion for this could be something patterned, so as to not worry about fat stains. Or being seasonally affected. If this feels weird, and the temperature is loud, and maybe you even feel your hair touching you: Go easy and choose something hems out. The sprezzatura of the mushy. Knitted dress or undercover. Or I mean, if it’s that bad, go for the tedium of a lifety jacket. Heels and nylons may feel good on the leg, but bad in the endings. I’m just saying. But you should be able to find some in the laundry pile. Dazzle them with something dumb like: A denim jacket with leather jacket sleeves. Just in time risk management. Don’t show you’re getting squeezy. Masked, and flowy skin coloured palazzo pants. Like, keep it farm to table, back to front: Maybe straw hats and stoneware on the wall for décor. Silver foil the kitchen hat. Sister all wrapped up in the duvets. Hands grabbing. Pockets so full and pulling down the fabric so firmly, it seems too much for it to hold. The top could become a type of tent for your torso and the overcrowded pockets could form a type of donut around the hips. Looking at it might become nerve-racking in several ways. Will this hold itself together? What’s in there? Must be things and matters of the utmost importance: CV’s and business cards, contracts, instructions, information sheets, brochures, user manuals, reminders, admonitions, letters, postcards, post-its, memos, delivery notes, shipping labels, money orders, bank statements, loan forms, policies, booking confirmations, cancellation forms, waiting numbers, pickup slips, transfer notes, referrals, prescriptions, proposals, assignments, applications, confirmations, rejections, requests, results, journals, logs, diaries, sketches, shopping lists, checklists, to-do lists, envelopes, vouchers, price tags, train tickets, boarding passes, fee notes, bills, checks, receipts, invoices, invitations, evaluations, annual reports, charts, tables, tabs, flaps, bags, newspapers, advertisement, packaging, warranties, guarantees, recipes… Birke Gorm (b. 1986) uses materials that open up layered levels of meaning. Utility materials such as cardboard, wood, brick, sand, jute, or nails and screws form the starting point for thematic settings that refer to questions of value and usability, work and production, optimisation and rationalisation. Hannah Heilmann (b. 1978) works primarily with installation, objects and performance. She uses her works – often made of ephemeral shopped and found materials and objects – to explore relationships between subject, object and commodity. Gorm and Heilmann have an ongoing conversation about objects, piles, and piled objects, clusters of promises, voids and matter, domesticity, and artistic practices. In down on the cloth like a thunder shower this conversation unfolds, also materially, between new and old work. The exhibition was made possible with the kind support of Karl and Faber auctioneers, Stiftung Stark für Gegenwartskunst, Casandra Hermann & Tectus Insurance Brokers.