She opens her arms wide: “I want to go home, do my dreaming.” Crossing from an unbearable reality to the world of magic sometimes takes only the snap of a finger, sometimes several press-ups. Gudrun Krebitz’s poetic combination of video and animation recommends pushing the gravestone aside and descending into one’s subconscious: with overpaintings and superimpositions.

The gaze follows a line of trees and tries to visually order near and distant branches. A jumble of lines sketchily leaves behind what is and sketchily captures what can be assembled from the remnants of perception. Hand-drawn lines conquer the third dimension with digital crackling. A pylon waves its tentacles.