On my first visit to this exhibition, I thought I’d misunderstood the ICA’s new opening times and missed half of the show. Returning, I found nothing more: a largely vacant space with some seats set in a circle, a photo wallpaper with multiple sunsets, and an electronic scoreboard like at a basketball court. In another room loosely styled as a military bunker and only dimly lit, I played with an unresponsive touchscreen to unknowingly change the score outside. Underwhelmed and unaffected, I moved to the gallery bar.
Reading the exhibition’s pamphlet in search of something to chew on, I found it full of vague observations and dubious claims. The title came from some Cold War science fiction. Time’s arrow is broken. There’s a world outside. We’re living in the end times. Some things mean other things.
This illuminated nothing. I knew that it was possible to understand art and life less after seeing an exhibition. I didn’t, however, imagine that experiencing Wielebinski’s work twice would only compound such damage.
