In Oliver Laric’s works, nothing is still, indeed: for the viewer approaching his practice, the feeling is that of stepping into a known river only to acknowledge that “different and again different waters flow,” to echo Heraclitus—as cited by Plato—as quoted by Laric himself.

It’s Sunday morning as I sit at my working desk with a coffee-stained bunch of stapled papers on my lap. The densely typed handout is the script of I don’t want to live, I don’t want to die, an exhibition in five acts by the Copenhagen-based artist collective YEARS.