Art has always been the site of struggle: its forms obscure, its freedoms pure fiction. And the ­territory is currently being ­resurveyed. While identities blur, the terrain is being ­fractured. Old and new forces are intervening, speculating for various interests, claiming their share in the visible and invisible—the accursed share. What some ignore, others must delete. What mustn’t be shown can be read in a deeper darkness under a stronger light.

Blinded, baited, ensnared in finely woven nets, our eyes are like those of tamed animals, first wild, then sore, often dulled: overstimulated, tired, and yet very desirable beasts. But who trains them? Cyborgs? Bots? Avatars? As if there were identities galore, and just behind, uploaded, were a world. For here there is no place that does not see you.

Andrea Éva Gyori traumatizes apples and ­lemons. Alexander García Düttmann addresses the ­moralism of form. Beyond the ­pleasure ­principle, Wong Ping’s true stories are a provo­cation. Ashley Hans Scheirl stages her scene’s ob_sceneries. Lars von Trier seeks the ­Kaspar Hauser of cinema. Uma Thurman’s face becomes vulnerable. Elena Dorfman beholds the origin of the world in Uncanny Valley.