The publication Die Hand voller Stunden, so kamst du zu mir (Your Hand Full of Hours, You Came to Me) by Anaïs Horn is an intimate reflection on the current moment of physical distancing and uncertainty. Taking its title from Paul Celan’s collection of poetry Mohn und Gedächtnis (Poppy and Memory, 1952), it mixes the visual and the poetic, fragmenting images while encompassing different techniques, materials, formats, and registers. Examining the physicality of hands as a symbol of proximity, affection, and care, as well as a nonverbal tool of expression, Horn recounts a personal event as a starting point for her photographic and sculptural dérive, while creating a form that is consistently open to the process of becoming. Since the artist’s practice is eventful in general, this publication also unravels diaristically and evolves as a stream of consciousness determined by the medium of photography and its deconstruction. Creating an emotional tension between biographical moments and historical references, objects, and images, Horn candidly unveils her intimate memories and surroundings, highlighting a spatial shift from the public sphere to the domestic realm. Devised with a sense of theatricality, images expand into cast sculptures, pieces of furniture, see-through curtains, and clothing items—immersing readers in them, while conspiring to foster a feeling of déjà vu.
