I was wandering through this peculiar sub-urban area in Vilnius, surrounded by dilapidated industrial buildings, railway infrastructure, and a notorious psychiatric ward. There I stumbled upon an abandoned enclosure of doghouses. It stubbornly stood by a factory, kind of camouflaged by bushes. Assembled haphazardly from random leftover materials, it felt like it emerged on its own from all the debris lying around it.
Something in it echoed beyond itself. Perhaps people, like dogs, want to be kept on a leash, only being able to bark, I thought. My installation reimagines that site in a more human register, also shaped by containment and indeterminacy. The structures in it seem stable only at first glance, but reveal themselves as hollow shells. In this way, their functionality is sabotaged, and an odd kind of negative function remains as residue.
