“Freedom is never arriving on time—never, ever!—for our exercise in freedom.”
Alfred Jarry, *Ubu Enchained*
“We must cast out this doubling of ourselves in order to be truly ourselves—though we may never fully succeed. Our phantom twin, the duplicate identical to us, haunts our steps…”
Jean Baudrillard, *The Penultimate Moment*
Horizont Gallery transforms into an intermediate space—an antechamber to freedom. The figures in the paintings linger in this liminal zone; appearing in pairs in every image, yet each remains solitary. In their state of inaction, they might flee a speed-skating stadium or signal from a semaphore chapel. At times, they conduct tours in a looted art gallery or race in a checkered car-coffin. They might also go hungry in a dining room or play cards with their phantom twin in a prison cell, finally deciding which of them will cross the threshold of freedom’s antechamber.
Within this exhibition space—acting as an antechamber—two optical telegraphs have been transmitting signals for two hundred and thirty-three years. One points the way out toward a hopeless freedom, while the other points inward to the depths of the gallery, from where there is no return. Contrary to the exhibition’s title, the visitor learns little about the true nature of freedom, yet one can say with certainty that they will recognize their own phantom twin at the show. Nor can the art interpreter determine for sure whether the path leads from the antechamber of freedom into the captivity of freedom, or into the freedom of captivity. To resolve this, we ask the esteemed art lover to turn not to the artist, but to their phantom twin.