Mutation (2022) was a sculptural work born from an experience of alienation and dislocation. During a residency at the Paltz—a fairytale-like estate in the Netherlands—I felt confronted with a painful contrast: while the surrounding landscape whispered of silence and harmony, and while we as participating artists were drinking wine with our curators, the world had just tilted. Two days earlier, Russia had invaded Ukraine.

These events, that would be the start of a long war, made me aware of the metaphorical situation of the estate nearby former Soesterberg military air base: war and peace are neighbours here. Beyond the fence I found abandoned concrete guardhouses, almost identical, unmanned, that were dormant for decades. They looked rather cute until that day. Now, in the light of war, they seemed suddenly awakened.

Instead of creating a folly that would emphasize the idyll of the estate, I built a distorted, sharp-edged version of such a guardhouse, as an invasion of the Paltz. Not meant to be observed from within, but only from the outside. Built from styrofoam, it was as unreal as everything else on the estate, with its artificial waterfall and cave and the new house built in a nostalgic style. The sculpture wouldn’t provide any shelter against bullets. As a temporary folly it captured discomfort: the moment when the outside world imposes itself, and the decor no longer offers a foothold.