ESSAYS Mousse 74

Architect of the Lifeworld: Peter Fend

by Dora Budor


“Rather than speak of a practice let’s look at what appears to be most necessary to achieve, and how I can work to make that happen, in the evolution of the species.” Thus reads a sentence from Peter Fend’s proclamation titled “IMPERATIVES—WHAT WE MUST DO.” Rendered in his signature Courier typeface and dated October 16, 2020, this austere raison d’être was on hand in Fend’s most recent exhibition, BIRDS REIGN (2020–21) at Galerie Barbara Weiss, Berlin.


The twenty-first century saw the rate of movement of material from construction and agricultural activity sur- pass, by an order of ten, that of all geological processes, and Fend recognizes the significant role of the architect (likewise, describing himself as one) in this monumental shifting and reorganization.1 His vision of the “world as a living earthwork”2 necessitates that architects’ and urbanists’ jobs neither begin nor end with building edifices—“one fault is overdesign, and consequently over-building.”3 On the contrary, they must incorporate entire physical systems of air, land, water, and the sets of relations that transverse them. Following Lauren Berlant’s phrasing of infrastructure as “the lifeworld of the structure […] defined by the movement or patterning of social form,” if I would to make a name for what exactly Fend does, I think architect of the lifeworld would be pretty accurate.4

Like many political currents of the 1960s, the ecology movement was a reaction to both the successes and the failures of modernism. Pushing against the romantic notion of Nature as something apart from and unspoiled by humans, a number of artists started engaging with outdoor sites, oftentimes wastelands and industrially impact- ed landscapes, forming the movement that would become known as Land art. From it, a critical strain of environmental and ecologically oriented art advanced, and kept on underscoring the effects of social and political entanglements with nature. Spurred by the increasing toxicity of air and water and the soaring prices of oil—plus the effects of environmental poisons already described in Rachel Carson’s Silent Spring (1962)—1972 was hallmarked by the United Nations Conference on the Human Environment in Stockholm, the first major meeting on international environmental issues. This was the climate from which Peter Fend’s lifelong project emerged—the reflection that something must be done, and that earthworks could be utilized to a higher means, or “applied,” leading to technological innovation and betterment of living conditions across the planet.

Born in 1950 in Columbus, Ohio, Fend grew up near General Electric’s research headquarters and close to the Rickenbacker Air National Guard Base, which early on worked on providing aerial reconnaissance and mapping services, even serving for a while as a center for gathering intelligence on a global scale. After finishing English and History studies at Carleton College in Minnesota, Fend engaged in regional planning around the Midwest, built ski lifts in Colorado, worked briefly at the World Bank in Washington, DC, and spent some time in the wilderness. “Making a last attempt to conform,” he considered applying to law school, then moved to New York and worked night shifts at the Fulton Fish Market.5 Finding the academic route neither compelling nor forward looking enough, but enthralled by Vincent Scully’s lecture at Columbia University “Garden & Fortress: The Shape of France,” he wrote the essay “Agriculture Ends, Art Takes Over” (1976), in which he proposed a return to pre- domestication land use, a hunter-gatherer lifestyle, and the restoration of pre-Neolithic multitudes of wildlife.6 Impassioned letters to both Scully and Dennis Oppenheim on a return to “the wild” followed.

All of this led, under Oppenheim’s auspices, to various introductions in New York’s art world and working for Gordon Matta-Clark, for whom he researched aerostats, bridge engineering, and more; they worked closely until Matta-Clark’s death in 1978. The concept of Anarchitecture—the proposition of using architecture against itself in order to wildly expand its methodologies and influence—would provide a framework for Fend’s wielding of the architectural language in terms of both aesthetics and megastructural application. Described as “practicing architecture of the whole habitat—with the atmosphere, the waters, the entire technical and physical apparatus by which a city lives and breathes,” megastructures position the architect as responsible for stewarding an entire territory’s well-being, accounting for not only its human inhabitants but an ecology of all fauna and flora there. For Fend, the territory as a topic underlines everything—“who controls it, what is done with it, and how it gets used”—becoming a crux where seemingly disparate issues of ecology and military converge.7

Throughout his career, Fend has collaborated with other artists, architects, and scientists, which formalized in manifold entities—Ocean Earth Development Corporation, Space Force, NEWS ROOM, GLOBAL FEED, Rapid Response, Swiss Defense—allowing for experimentation with different production methods, upset hierarchies, and distribution outside of art channels and in the real world. Collaborative Projects began in 1977, when a group of artists (including Coleen Fitzgibbon, Jenny Holzer, Tom Otterness, Kiki Smith, and Robin Winters) started producing collective exhibitions and television content for community cable TV, out of which the spinoff The Offices of Fend, Fitzgibbon, Holzer, Nadin, Prince & Winters emerged. Under Holzer’s concept of “Pleasure/Function,” standing for work that aligns with what gives pleasure, they attempted to sell “art-based thought and practice to non-art clients […] working with client’s needs.”8 They advised 112 Greene Street to change its name to White Columns as their first job, followed by various other jobs for Los Angeles Public Library, UC Irvine, civil engineers, a marine development corporation, public radio hosts and a balloonist. The pleasure might have also arrived from incitement of a collaborative modus operandi, and detection of a pertinent space for their practices in real life—a desire shared by numerous artists and collectives of that period. It was a result of a reciprocal interest from the managerial and entrepreneurial sphere; the business sector saw potential to model its shifting practices on artists’ “immaterial labor,” and toward which artists would use their newly found allure to gain entry into spheres outside of art.9

The dedication to “militant research” required involvement in constellations of intersecting groups in order to access and co-form knowledge.10 Hence, this period was demarcated by an increasing number of eco-artist groups and partnerships, including Newton and Helen Mayer Harrison, Critical Art Ensemble (often collaborating with Claire Pentecost), CLUI (Center for Land Use Interpretation), and the environmental artists who are mostly known by their individual names but in actuality operated in close connection or collaboratively, such as Hans Haacke, Agnes Denes, Joseph Beuys, Alan Sonfist, Viet Ngo, Bonny Beaumont, Patricia Johnson, and herman de vries, to name a few. Summed up under the mantra “Develop action, thought and desires by proliferation, juxtaposition and disjunction, and not by subdivision and pyramidal hierarchization. […] Difference over uniformity, flows over unities, mobile arrangements over systems,” their artistic aspiration was to radically reimagine the way the world and its resources are governed, distributed, and protected.11

Equally dedicated to “militant research” and radical pedagogy, Fend spearheaded multifarious alliances. Taking a lawyer friend’s recommendation that The Offices’ work might be further-reaching as well as better protected under a legal, for-profit corporation, Ocean Earth Construction and Development Corporation was founded in 1980. Specifically conceived as an instrument for implementing the goals of the environmental art movement and pushing earthworks beyond purely aesthetic engagement, this association of artists, architects, and scientists shift- ed according to the needs of each project, wherever it took place around the world, but Fend remained a central figure throughout. As their primary aim—a result of a meeting between Fend, the avant-garde filmmaker Paul Sharits, and CNN camerawoman Coleen Fitzgibbon at Magoo’s restaurant in New York to discuss the confluences of lowest cost and maximum “believability”—they set out to acquire satellite data. “We, the artists, would do visual communication from space, for the world, and we would bring to the world a visual government, what Beuys was calling ‘direct democracy.’”12 With Taro Suzuki and Wolfgang Staehle, a particular subsidiary of Ocean Earth shaped up, functioning as a sort of a civilian space militia named Space Force. Art of the State, their first exhibition, was held at The Kitchen, New York, in 1982, and it was outlined by the manifesto “Television Government,” flagged by the motto “When Space Force Looks, the World Will See.

From that point, Ocean Earth swiftly started to ac- quire data from the commercial satellite enterprises Land- sat and EROS under the “open skies” policy. Running it through state-of-the-art processing labs, differently colored spectral bands would materialize as critical geopolitical events, which they would broadcast, along with selling their reportage to news organizations and other media outlets. They were the first to locate the British fleets in the Falklands preparing to attack Argentina in 1982, and selling that footage to the NBC made them pioneers in citizen-run investigative reporting. This move likewise blazed the trail for organizations such as Global Rev and WikiLeaks as well as human rights research groups like Forensic Architecture. With an incredible persistence and ability to sift through multicolored grains of data and de- cipher complex visual phenomena, Ocean Earth continued with an outpour of news leaks, published in international outlets such as Frankfurter Allgemeine Zeitung, International Herald Tribune, L’Express, Observer, Sunday Times, London Times, and New Scientist. Among the reports was a disclosure of Iraq’s plans to use waterway construction as a weapon in the Persian Gulf (1988); the improper stabilization and grounding procedures that led to the Chernobyl reactor disaster (1986); detection of a few Soviet submarine bases (1986); and demonstration of excessive fertilizer use and pollutant runoff causing wild microalgae blooms in the North Sea (1988).

Artists’ growing interest in remote sensing technology and satellite imagery, which operates on a global, even interplanetary scale, marked an important shift from the observational techniques attuned to human perception in modern (art) history—a jump from the human eye into the all-seeing eyes of satellites, first enabled by the military use of aerial photography in the 1930s. The turn from three-point perspective (which posits the spectator as the unique center of the world )13 to overview field studies revealed the layers and complexity of “slow violence” and the fluctuations of economy, transportation, and climate.14 Members of Ocean Earth shared diverse interests in surveilling and mapping; as artists, they were already “in the business of being suspicious.”15 What for the photographers in the group became a live mode of abstraction provided through space imaging—Sharits called it a “true abstract cinema”—the others saw as a chance to be inside history. Not to read the news, but to be the news. For Fend, this gateway was twofold: first, it was crucial as a credible platform for his ideas regarding ecology and land use to feature on the global policy agenda, and second, the analysis of satellite material seemed the most adequate, abstract form of contemporary landscape painting, which he would follow by sea basin mapping and the flag works.

Fend continued with the site monitoring and international exhibitions with Ocean Earth, whose activities at this point were mostly happening in Europe, but he also was exhibiting individually at a steady pace. IRON LUNG: A ROOM DEFINED NOT BY ITS WALLS BUT BY A PUMP; WEALTH OF BASINS, DEATH OF NATIONS; and World Space: Political Economies after Oil (all 1979) were his first three solo projects. They took place at Peter Nadin Gallery, a short-lived but influential art space at 84 West Broadway, New York, which was run by the Offices’ partner and painter Peter Nadin and artist Christopher D’Arcangelo. For his last show there, Fend borrowed an iron lung from Bellevue Hospital and turned it on inside the loft, to “breathe” the room. Already in this early work, a radical inquiry into the relation of the body to the spatial realm was presented, as if the architectural boundary must be superseded by the conditions of existence in the space: the circulation of air and the capability to breathe. “Space ceases to be a given, seen from inside. It becomes an inside as visceral as our bodies.”16 (I can’t help but think of this exhibition in relation to a recent show by Park McArthur, a fellow ESSEX STREET / Maxwell Graham, New York artist whose last show, Edition One and Two Fantasies [2020], required us to think about space through our ability to exist in it by inverting the room into the inside of an incentive spirometer, a medical device that measures lung capacity.)

In 1988 Fend joined the roster of Colin de Land’s American Fine Arts in New York, which he continued showing with until 2004 (a year after de Land’s death), counting eight solo exhibitions. The first, BODY (1988) by Ocean Earth, focused on satellite monitoring of Iraq’s manipulation of fluvial geomorphology in the Persian Gulf conflict. This was followed by Fend’s project Completion of the War (1989), where instead of a political reading of the world, a topographical one was proposed—an idea he had pursued earlier in WEALTH OF BASINS, DEATH OF NATIONS at Peter Nadin Gallery and Global System (1982) at Chase Manhattan Plaza, New York. This decades-spanning project drew from an economic doctrine called physiocracy, which aims for national borders to be reshaped according to their concomitant sea basins, so as to form ecologically sustainable units for resource management and taxation. The maps on the walls, familiar and bewildering at the same time, presented the centripetal lands around the drainage basins of former Central America, Italy, Germany, Japan, Russia, and Libya. Reliance on mineral fuels and lack of nutritive resources were replaced by food and energy self-sufficiency, ergo ending the need for conflicts and ensuring the maintenance of absorption and return in the ecosystem. Two years later, in 1992, a continuation of this endeavor was shown at documenta IX, Kassel, in which official flags were replaced with basin-flags of the EU, Germany, Asia, the Americas, and the Southern Hemisphere. No wonder Fend is so interested in water streams and sea changes; his view of the world at large is a view of flows, which at moments are either opened up and routed to benefit and feed many, or dammed to aggregate power for a few. To this end, questions of representation of territory, and its reorganization and extraction via the sovereign state, feature in the majority of his work.

NEWS ROOM NEW YORK (1990) was his third show at American Fine Arts (simultaneously with NEWS ROOM AMSTERDAM at the Museum Fodor, Amsterdam). The series has had iterations in several cities: Frankfurt (Institut für Neue Medien / Pavilion Varisella, 1990), Stock- holm (Galerie Nordenstad-Skarstedt, 1991), Paris (Galerie des Archives, 1993), Copenhagen (with Globe, 1994), and Graz (Steirischer Herbst, 1998). It built upon the work of Space Force, only from the ground, using comparative dissection of news and footage from diverse news outlets. For example, one NEWS ROOM AMSTERDAM report included study of the blast that occurred on October 7, 1991, at the Presidential Palace in Zagreb from the viewpoints of the Croatian versus Yugoslav media. This blast (which I sensed as a kid and remember to this day as a bombing) in their analysis was disclosed as a coup attempted by the far right via ground attack, instead of an aircraft attack by the Yugoslav Air Force, as the Croatian government framed it to rally support. Some NEWS ROOM presentations featured maps displaying geopolitical situations confronting other maps demonstrating ecological emergencies, pinning the two into an interdependent relation that links property possession with property degradation.

Attuned to the Beuysian legacy of cohabitating with coyotes, the planting of seven thousand oaks, and attempts to restore degraded marshes in the Zuider Zee basin, Fend’s ongoing call for the return to wildness imagines a post-agricultural condition, something like the re-wilded world of self-sufficient scavenger communities of John Wyndham’s The Day of the Triffids (1951), minus the killer plants. This post-agricultural world is quite unlike the one we know and live in today. Overgrown with vegetation, wetlands proliferate and wildlife prospers, state borders cease to exist, human predators hunt and grow to eat, and garbage and shit are transformed into energy.

The question is, how would one reach such a state? Fend’s proposals pile up. Working to provide alternative sources of food and energy by replacing land-based agri- culture with farming of the oceans (such as using kelp for food and energy and algae to filter contaminants, waste conversion via fungi and yeasts, raising of herds of wild animals on open range lands, et cetera) would in return drastically diminish pollution, and hence reduce its negative effects on humans (such as the all-too-familiar epidemics, cancers, and immunological diseases) and overall environmental health (for which mineral fuels, such as natural gas and uranium, must be replaced by non-polluting energy sources). A strong warning against artificial fertilizers is issued, given their depletion of soils that over time renders them infertile, and against animal domestication and farming practices that lead to weakening of ecological diversity, which is essential to human as well as animal immunology (a fact with which renowned evolutionary biologist Rob Wallace agrees), and for wildlife restoration. “Agriculture, dead-end means, comes to an end as we conceive of the wilderness as a packaging plant.”17

Fend is a man of words, but he always proposes concrete courses of action, whether they come in the form of maps, diagrams, site reports pasted on foam-core boards, topographic models, industrial prototypes, technological schemes, client presentations, or email blasts to CCed friends and acquaintances. They all outline solutions. These range from transition to non-polluting and life-preserving industries for the whole Ruhrgebiet, as in Duis- burg Policies (1980), which includes elevation of habitation and office megastructures into the air to allow life below to flourish; to architecture, as in Prototypes for Windbreak- Canopy for City, Supported by Exhaust Heat Ducted from Buildings (1979); to semi-submersible offshore seaweed-harvestingrigs to produce non-polluting methane gas, designed with naval architect Marc Lombard (Offshore Soil Rig [1993]); to a circular system of waste converted into keratin via yeasts, and then into artificial feathers, which would then remediate ecosystems.

That last project, titled Urban Extrusion, was first presented at Arnolfini, Bristol, UK, in 2004 and then again in Fend’s most recent exhibition, BIRDS REIGN. The expansive installation reads almost as an essay film. In the sequencing of Word Stacks as title cards, photo snaps from site reports, a progression of the project is tracked through microcosmic and aerial views.18 Enlargements of protein extrusions, samples of manufactured keratin film by a New Zealand company, aerial views of “activated” marshes, and a video of the artist himself throwing feathers into water all surround a massive wall completely covered in feathers—a soft, cumulous presence that appears almost to unbuild itself. In the viscous connectivity of the threads that Fend tangles between disparate places and substances, a view of the world emerges that is not only transnational, but also trans-species and trans-corporeal.19 To be a body or a system—especially in the case of autopoietic entities—is to live from the world. And not only live from the world, but learn from the world, in which for instance taking part in a mimetic dance with the migratory birds and insects, mapping their flight pathways and growth systems is utilized to naturally reorganize ours.

The problem with detrimental effects of climate change—which we consume affectively and with a rush of an apocalyptic movie in the daily deluge of news, but still have a problem mobilizing a real sense of—is to realize the intensity with which our bodies, and our time, are mutually implicated in environmental alterations. Rapid Response, a group that Fend and collaborators Christina Cobb, Julia Fischer, and William Meyer began in 1999, was an attempt at that intensity; their goal was to form a real “post-petroleum” gas station that would serve alternative fuels like methane and biogas in order to curb climate change (RAPID: Post-Petroleum Gas Stations, Launching a Brand, American Fine Arts [2000]). It was launched by an urban action, which sought a fissure in the narrative flow of the urban landscape through subversion of the language of big oil. Installed for the first time in the out-door back space of Nikolai Fine Art in New York, directly adjacent to an Exxon station, the blue and red lightbox- es visually blended into the floating lights of the petrol station signage, spelling out Global Warming/Global Terror (1999). Extending the petrol station beyond its blueprint and into the street, they served as an alerting alteration of the symbols elevated by Ed Ruscha and fellow US industrial landscape painters, recontextualizing the territory and the spatiality of the landscape once again in a completely novel way.

The reasons and conditions preventing Fend’s projects’ construction have been much discussed, including in the artist’s own “Why New Worlds Conceived by Artists Do Not Get Built” some twenty years into his practice.20 In his statement, art is positioned as a mutation, or an adaptation of that which is known, which in its successful form shall co-function with innovation in other fields (hence its ultimate use as a means of survival). In times of historical crisis such as war, pandemics, or other life-threatening events, a relay occurs that sets forth an extension of art practice into the worlds of industry, construction, medicine, and military engineering, allow- ing for the collaboration of art innovation and science, for which Fend offers multiple historical examples. The recent decades of paralysis that have confined art strictly to domain of “culture,” allowing it only a function of entertainment and commodity, or in the other variant as a political folly (“commentary”), distracts us from its progressive set of imaginings, intuitions, and tools for survival, Fend warns.

Certainly, there is a codependency of intelligence and survival, and this would be my takeaway from the above. Unlike extraction from the land and endless exploitation of Earth’s resources, one thing doesn’t get exhausted, and that is the exponential capacity of knowledge itself. As artist Stephan Dillemuth succinctly notes: “The more knowledge is used, the more knowledge is produced. Its dissemination increases its fertility.”21 Moreover, it points to the vital connection between commons as a shared resource, sustained communities, and common-ing as an act or process. And, moreover, if one supposes it to be a strategy, they can follow the Fend chant: “SEE THIS, ADAPT IT TO YOUR PLACE, THEN BUILD.”22 Remember, there is a reason why in Ray Bradbury’s Fahrenheit 451 (1953), the most dangerous item to possess is a book.


[1] See for instance Bruce H. Wilkinson, “Humans as Geologic Agents: A Deep-Time Perspective,” Geology 33, no. 3 (March 2005): 161–64.
[2] Jonathan Crary, “Peter Fend’s Global Architecture,” Arts Magazine 55 (June 1981): 152–53.
[3] “Fend Statement for Kaap, Wagemans and Velthoven,” December 6, 1989, part of the materials for NEWS ROOM NEW YORK / NEWS ROOM AMSTERDAM.
[4] Lauren Berlant, “The Commons: Infrastructures for Troubling Times,” Environment and Planning D Society and Space 34, no. 3 (2016): 393.
[5] From Peter Fend’s Timeline,
[6] In lectures such as “Garden & Fortress: The Shape of France” Scully
argued that recent Land art and Conceptual art contained the germs of a radically new approach to gardens (or land), fortresses (or military defense systems), and, extendedly, regional planning.
[7] David Joselit and Rachel Harrison, “A Conversation with Peter Fend,” October 125 (Summer 2008): 130.
[8] Joselit and Harrison, “A Conversation with Peter Fend,” 118.
[9] Leah Pires, “Pleasure/Function: Aesthetic Services circa 1980,”
Brand New Art & Commodity in the 1980s, ed. Gianni Jetzer, (New York: Rizzoli Electa, 2018): 62–73, covers these confluences extensively, drawing from Luc Boltanski and Eve Chiapello’s The New Spirit of Capitalism (London, New York: Verso Books, 2005).
[10] The art historian Tom Holert characterizes artistic research practices that seek to build “autonomous publics” and “spheres of emancipation” in terms of “militant research.” Tom Holert, “Artistic Research: Anatomy of an Ascent,” Texte zur Kunst, no. 82 (June 2011): 55.
[11] Michel Foucault, preface to Anti-Oedipus: Capitalism and Schizophrenia (New York: Viking, 1977), xiii.
[12] Joselit and Harrison, “A Conversation with Peter Fend,” 120.
[13] John Berger, Ways of Seeing (London: Penguin Books, 1972).
[14] Rob Nixon, Slow Violence and the Environmentalism of the Poor
(Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press, 2011).
[15] Joselit and Harrison, “A Conversation with Peter Fend,” 127.
[16] “Ocean Earth: 1980 bis heute,” published by Neue Galerie am Landes
museum Joanneum, Graz; K-raum Daxer, Munich (Stuttgart: Oktagon-Verlag, 1994), 4.
[17] “Ocean Earth: 1980 bis heute,” 8.
[18] Word Stacks is a series the artist started in the 1970s featuring lines of
poetry, organized according to the spatial logic of each line containing the same number of characters in Courier typeface, hence forming perfect columns as they get longer.
[19] “Transcorporeality is, in other words, an ontological orientation that expresses the imbrication of human and non-human natures, writes Stacy Alaimo.” Astrida Neimanis and Rachel Loewen Walker, “‘Weathering’: Climate Change and the ‘Thick Time’ of Transcorporeality,” Hypatia 29, no. 3 (Summer 2014): 558–75.
[20] CarolineBusta, “BureaucracytoPloughshares/OnPeterFendat ESSEX STREET,” Texte zur Kunst, no. 85 (March 2012): 207–10; Daniel Keller, “Informers / On Peter Fend at Barbara Weiss and Oracle, Berlin,” Texte zur Kunst, no. 101 (March 2016): 175–77.
[21] Stephan Dillemuth, “The Hard Way to Enlightenment,” Texte zur Kunst, no. 82 (June 2011): 94.
[22] From Peter Fend, “Statement,” May 17, 2016,


Peter Fend (b. 1950, Columbus) lives and works in New York. For more than forty years, he has expanded the boundaries of how an artistic practice can relate to society and the world that society inhabits. His unique methodology incorporates architecture, art history, activism, and business acumen to propose ecologically responsible solutions to real-world problems. Through his work across mediums, Fend aims to spark discussion among policy makers, corporations, and individuals in a manner that transgresses the context of art. He has been featured in notable survey exhibitions around the world, including documenta IX, Kassel (1992); the 45th Venice Biennale (1999); the 47th Venice Biennale (2003); the Liverpool Biennial (2003); and the 8th Sharjah Biennial (2007). He has had solo exhibitions at Kunsthalle Dusseldorf; The Kitchen, New York; Kunstraum Daxer, Munich; Galerie Esther Schipper, Cologne; American Fine Art, New York; Peter Nadin, New York; Arnolfini, Bristol; Roger Pailhas, Paris; Georg Kargl, Vienna; Pinksummer; Genoa; ESSEX STREET / Maxwell Graham, New York; and Galerie Barbara Weiss, Berlin, among others.

Dora Budor is an artist and writer based in New York. She has recent and upcoming solo exhibitions at Kunsthaus Bregenz (2022); Progetto Space, Lecce (2021); Kunsthalle Basel (2019); 80WSE, New York (2018); and the Swiss Institute, New York (2015). Her work has been presented in group exhibitions at the Whitney Museum of American Art, New York; the Louisiana Museum of Modern Art, Copenhagen; Palais de Tokyo, Paris; Swiss Institute, New York; La Panacée, Montpellier; the Migros Museum, Zurich; Fridericianum, Kassel; Halle für Kunst und Medien, Graz; the Museum of Modern Art in Warsaw; MOCA Belgrade; the Museum of Modern and Contemporary Art, Rijeka; and K11 Art Foundation, Amsterdam, as well as the 9th Berlin Biennale (2016); the Vienna Biennale (2017); Art Encounters 2017, Timișo- ara; the 13th Baltic Triennial, Vilnius (2018); the 16th Istanbul Biennial (2019); the 2nd Riga International Biennial of Contemporary Art (2020); and Geneva Biennale: Sculpture Garden (2020). Budor was a recipient of the Rema Hort Mann Foundation’s Emerging Artist Grant in 2014, a Pollock-Krasner Foundation Grant in 2018, and a Guggenheim Fellowship for 2019–20.


Originally published in Mousse 74

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