Every space has a certain structure, with a certain logic. The structure of this space has been altered — what was below the floor, is over our heads; what was one, is now many; what was separate, is now united. Suddenly, everything is alive with possibility. What happens next? What kind of animals, beings, machines, are showing their open bellies? What is the meaning of that space inside them and what could it beget?

The artist found ten bags of costumes under the floor of an old theatre. Ten groups of costumes, each united in a bag, found an artist from above the ceiling. She undid their stitches and seams, laid the textile on the floor, upside down, inside out.

These materials once served the storytellers, mostly by remaining invisible. Seams, film reels and coat hangers live outside of the limelight. That is a necessary part of the magic: not seeing the threads that hold the play together. The audience wants to be fooled for a little while, they paid for the illusion. That is, at…