Armor and Iynx (neigh, and bark, and grunt, and roar, and burn), 2025

EVA foam, epoxy, steel, wood, acrylics, iron particles, pheasant feather, bondage rope, pigments, concrete

‘PDOAAI (Peitho dreams of armor and Iynx)’ duo with Christine Overvad Hansen at du.al 2025

‘PDOAAI (Peitho dreams of armor and Iynx)’ was accompanied with the following text by James Maguire

(De)cloaking Agencies: Gods, Animals, and Machines

Our actions are oftentimes mysterious, both to others, and even to ourselves. Our hearts fill, our bodies move, our minds reason. But the landscapes of these actions remain elusive, eerily familiar, yet decidedly strange. Desires, urges, needs, motives, affections swirl in a melange of apprehension, memory, and anticipation making competing claims upon, and giving various accounts of, the self. And while what can emerge is beautiful, iridescent even, our capacity to comprehend such action is oftentimes less incisive than our ability to evoke it. 

This has much to do with how we think about action, of how we conceive, frame, and hence figure the maelstrom of agencies that inform what we do. And while such figures matter, we should also be wary of them: they are tricksters, neither true nor false. Their magic lies in their ability to cloak; to form, obscure, hide, yet simultaneously reveal the contours of meaningful action. Such archetypical figures emerge at various moments in different times, in different places, for different peoples. 

In the time of Gods, the agencies of humans were circumscribed, constrained by cavernous entities, mischievously meddling in affairs of the heart, of politics, of tribe. Love was kindled, lives were extinguished, sacrifices were made. The God figure brazenly ‘acted-on’ subjects, usurping powers, riddling minds, distributing iniquitous justice. The proliferation of their agencies cowed the will of the human self in a world that was harsh, where redemption was rare, and capriciousness flourished. And although these times were the cradle of much to come, the enlightenment they foretold cloaked a particular brutalism. Little could be known, less could be achieved, and the proto-sovereign power of the deity reigned supreme.

In the time of Animals, Man ascended the throne of agency. While the Gods were discredited, their motif remained. Man, too, felt emboldened to ‘act-on,’ be it nature, the world, the other. The figure of Man was modern, his will strong, his genius apparent, ushering in the new agencies of Science and Technology. Such forces were not to be taken lightly, yet dark was their import: nuclear reactions, fossil capitalism, planetary ecocide. A vast ensemble of legitimizing ideologies adorned Man’s philosophical tabula rasa: liberalism, extractivism, colonialism. Be it indigenous populations, women, ethnic others, or even mountains, creeks, rivers, birds, and bees. All entities and species out of place, out of time, cloaked by the figure of Man. 

In the time of Machines, the subjectivities of people seem frail, their judgements biased, their hearts weak. Dreams of procedural realities take hold, the impulse to automate, optimize, iterate, is strong. The rarefied atmospheres of computation are valorised, the aesthetics of math adorned, the preponderance of numbers inflicted. All the while statistical inferences become new vectors for beauty, courage, even decency. What is knowable is mapped, sorted, filtered, categorized into apertures of minimalist ‘output’ thinking. What is unknown ceases to exist, as knowledge forms are frozen, complexities reduced and lives re-ordered. Ultra-rationalists, technofascists, crypto-libertarians remake institutions, obliterate alliances, decimate economies. But the agencies of the machine figure continue to ascend, sprawling and accelerating the planet over. ‘Acting-on’ the world at scale, in real time, elevating the formalized statistical visions of math to new heights, beyond the throne of Man, beyond Olympus. But even so, the others lament, ‘we are still here.’ But their cry is faint, muffled through the humming of energy-intensive algorithmic cages, where racks of digital skin see no colour, no gender, no race, no origin. Merely bathing in the purified waters of computational vision. 

What these vignettes invite us to see is the tendency of our literary technologies to over formalize agency. To conceptualize it through an optic that centralizes figures who ‘act-on’ the world, subsuming the agencies of others within their ambit while cloaking their sublimated desires: mastery, domination, liberation, extraction. But in forgetting the vast ensemble of others that constitute action in particular times and particular places, we stumble blindly through time, iterating the logics and mistakes of the past. And even while the figures of each age diverge from one another, they somehow remain the same. Not merely archetypical, but analogical, retaining a recognizable pattern through time. The Machine-figure appropriates the cloak of its antecedent Man-figure, who in turn appropriates the cloak of its antecedent God-figure. All ‘act-on’ the world, all assimilate and organize agencies towards modes of living that embolden progress, growth, innovation, burning the remnant fires of modernism while the ruins of the Anthropocene lie all around us. 

If we want ‘acting-on’ to be an ember on the pyre of history, maybe ‘acting-with’ can be the phoenix of its ashes: multiplying our figures, de-toxifying our motives, and de-cloaking our agencies. To ‘act-with’ a world of others is a means of widening and varying the constellation of agencies that count as part of what constitutes our actions. Think of the eco-historical erasures begotten at the hands of our cloaked figures: not only the ruinous plantations of slavery and the structural racisms of segregation, but also the uncounted hordes of pollinators, microbes, fungi, those invisiblized others without whom our fragile planetary ecosystems would crumble. ‘Acting-with’ reinserts these erased others back within the panoply of action. Think of this as an invitation from the trans-feminist-queer-black-afro-divergent-anthropocene. But such an invitation is pressing. Time is not with us. Tick tock goes the planetary clock. And all the while, the reactionaries are on the move, turning to machinic agencies cloaked in math to revivify the toxic male cultural hegemonies of old. But where can we turn? Shall we merely listen for the faint cry of those that are still here yet invisible or revalorize those out of place and out of time species as they labour into extinction? De-cloaking and ‘acting-with’ is one road, refiguring the maelstrom of agencies that inform our actions beyond the reach of anachronistic figures in our midst, recloaking them through the caring, chaotic embrace of the multitudes.

James Maguire, Ph.d. 

Associate Professor, Technologies in Practice, Center for Climate at ITU

Brother, 2024

Tempera, gesso, plywood, carved douglas fir, tissue paper

‘The Taarup Exhibition’ group at Kunstrum Fyn, 2023

I only knew that you were thirsty, 2024

Douglas fir, imitation gold leaf, wood tar, acrylics, steel, bondage rope

Photo: Oskar Kolliander

Photo: Oskar Kolliander

Photo: Oskar Kolliander

Photo: Oskar Kolliander

Photo: Oskar Kolliander

Photo: Oskar Kolliander

Photo: Therese Vadum

‘La La Landscape’ curated by Skal Contemporary at Thy Alive Festival 2024

Photo: Crispin Gurholt

‘The Taarup Exhibition’ at Kunstrum Fyn 2024

The forest king, 2023

3d print, primer, ink, polystyrene, clay plaster

‘Just like just like just like’ solo at Nyborg Vandtårn 2023

The fisher king, 2023

3d print, primer, ink, polystyrene, clay plaster

‘Just like just like just like’ solo at Nyborg Vandtårn 2023

Just like just like just like, 2023

3d print, primer, ink, polystyrene, clay plaster, steel, wood

‘Just like just like just like’ solo at Nyborg Vantårn 2023

Shadow antagonist, 2023

3d print, primer, oil

‘Just like just like just like’ solo at Nyborg Vandtårn 2023

Persons, 2022

Slaked lime, marble dust, reeds, pigements, pallets, wood, plastazote, plastic wedges

‘Hehe’ solo at Nyborg Vandtårn 2022

Antagonist rising, 2022

Concrete, ironpowder, chemicals, plastazote, polystyrene, wood, sisal string, wax seal

‘Hehe’ solo at Nyborg Vandtårn 2022

Wonders of Dusty Necropolis I (marked teal), 2022

Clay mortar, straw, steel, rivets, etched and painted aluminium

Photo: Luna Lund Jensen

Photo: Luna Lund Jensen

‘Post Oceanic Wonder’ duo with Luna Lund Jensen at Skal Contemporary 2022

Wonders of Dusty Necropolis II (marked grass green and brown), 2022

Clay mortar, straw, steel, rivets, etched and painted aluminium

Photo: Luna Lund Jensen

Photo: Luna Lund Jensen

‘Post Oceanic Wonder’ duo with Luna Lund Jensen at Skal Contemporary 2022

Wonders of Dusty Necropolis III (marked rose, violet and orange), 2022

Clay mortar, straw, steel, rivets, etched and painted aluminium

Photo: Luna Lund Jensen

‘Post Oceanic Wonder’ duo with Luna Lund Jensen at Skal Contemporary 2022

Mene Tekel Upharsin (marked blue), 2022

Slaked lime, sand, marble dust, pigment, reeds, wood, etched and painted aluminium

Photo: Luna Lund Jensen

‘Post Oceanic Wonder’ duo with Luna Lund Jensen at Skal Contemporary 2022

the Colour of The Sun Cut Flat (marked green), 2022

Slaked lime, sand, marble dust, pigment, reeds, wood, etched and painted aluminium

Photo: Luna Lund Jensen

‘Post Oceanic Wonder’ duo with Luna Lund Jensen at Skal Contemporary 2022

We have Drunken of Things Lethean (marked red), 2022

Slaked lime, sand, marble dust, pigment, reeds, wood, etched and painted aluminium

Photo: Luna Lund Jensen

‘Post Oceanic Wonder’ duo with Luna Lund Jensen at Skal Contemporary 2022

Snake helmet, 2022

Polystyrene, lime plaster, pigments, charcoal

Negative path I (grey slate), 2021

Aluminium, wood, pigments, dust in oak frame

Toxic fur, houses I-III, 2020

Clay plaster

Toxic fur, duck head I-V, 2020

Polystyrene, inkjet print, polyester, tablet mount

Antagonist, 2020

Polymer clay, tablet stand

Pillars comma Weathered I-IV, 2019

Concrete, cardboard, pigments, oak

The Wonders of Our Hands // Crystallization and Microscopy duo with Claus Spangsberg at Fanø Kunstmuseum 2019

Master of Animals (Old Gilgamesh), 2019

Charcoal on craft paper, wood, pigments

The Wonders of Our Hands // Crystallization and Microscopy duo with Claus Spangsberg at Fanø Kunstmuseum 2019

Master of Animals (weezy self-portrait with cat), 2019

Charcoal on craft paper, wood, pigments

The Wonders of Our Hands // Crystallization and Microscopy duo with Claus Spangsberg at Fanø Kunstmuseum 2019

'Nullum gratuitum prandium', ay Mr. Fludd, 2019

Charcoal on craft paper, wood, pigments

The Wonders of Our Hands // Crystallization and Microscopy duo with Claus Spangsberg at Fanø Kunstmuseum 2019

Soane Sloane Badoooum (Bank of England), 2019

Charcoal on craft paper, wood, pigments

The Wonders of Our Hands // Crystallization and Microscopy duo with Claus Spangsberg at Fanø Kunstmuseum 2019

The Rabbits Alchemy, 2019

Charcoal on craft paper, wood, pigments

The Wonders of Our Hands // Crystallization and Microscopy duo with Claus Spangsberg at Fanø Kunstmuseum 2019

Wink! 1.5 - 6.8 mil. (from Mr. Spangsberg's travelogue), 2019

Charcoal on craft paper, wood, pigments

The Wonders of Our Hands // Crystallization and Microscopy duo with Claus Spangsberg at Fanø Kunstmuseum 2019

Pillar comma Metal (crafted by Emil Toldbod), 2019

Steel, brass

The Wonders of Our Hands // Crystallization and Microscopy duo with Claus Spangsberg at Fanø Kunstmuseum 2019

Oh My!

lions and tigers and bears

with smoke

how many kingdoms knows us not

with the things in the studio

terrae terrae terrae (!)

with her reading

//

stairs

closer and prettier than ever

with the edp

all out of joint

with mom at table

after us the flood

with banana peel

//

in order of entrance

Lions and Tigers and Bears, 2018

Woodcut on kozo paper, concrete, pigments

‘Oh my!’ solo at Danske Grafikeres Hus 2018

How many Kingdoms knows Us not, 2018

Woodcut on kozo paper, concrete, pigments

‘Oh my!’ solo at Danske Grafikeres Hus 2018

After Us the Flood, 2018

Woodcut on kozo paper, concrete, pigments

‘Oh my!’ solo at Danske Grafikeres Hus 2018

All out of Joint, 2018

Pencil on kozo paper, polyester

‘Oh my!’ solo at Danske Grafikeres Hus 2018

Closer and prettier than ever, 2018

Pencil on kozo paper, polyester

‘Oh my!’ solo at Danske Grafikeres Hus 2018

In order of entrance, 2018

Pencil on kozo paper, polyester

‘Oh my!’ solo at Danske Grafikeres Hus 2018

Oh My!, 2018

Pencil on kozo paper, polyester

‘Oh my!’ solo at Danske Grafikeres Hus 2018

Stairs, 2018

Pencil on kozo paper, polyester

‘Oh my!’ solo at Danske Grafikeres Hus 2018

terrae terrae terrae (!), 2018

Pencil on kozo paper, polyester

‘Oh my!’ solo at Danske Grafikeres Hus 2018

With her reading, 2018

Pencil on kozo paper, polyester

‘Oh my!’ solo at Danske Grafikeres Hus 2018

With mom at the table, 2018

Pencil on kozo paper, polyester

‘Oh my!’ solo at Danske Grafikeres Hus 2018

Withe smoke, 2018

Pencil on kozo paper, polyester

‘Oh my!’ solo at Danske Grafikeres Hus 2018

With the EDP (failed), 2018

Pencil on kozo paper, polyester

‘Oh my!’ solo at Danske Grafikeres Hus 2018

with the things in the studio, 2018

Pencil on kozo paper, polyester

‘Oh my!’ solo at Danske Grafikeres Hus 2018

Two Misanthropes, 2017

Charcoal on paper

‘Tegn 2’ group at Janus Bygningen 2017

…A joy Forever, 2016

inkjet print, india ink, oak

‘Golden Tours’ group pop-up 2017

3d render

Grove, 2015

inkjet print, aluminum

3d render

…a last and a first (green tablet), 2015

Aluminium

Photo: Anders Sune Berg

…a last and a first (grey tablet), 2015

Aluminium

Photo: Anders Sune Berg

…a last and a first (blue tablet), 2015

Aluminium

Photo: Anders Sune Berg

Photo: Anders Sune Berg

Afgang 2015 graduation at Kunsthal Charlottenborg

The room was empty (it would later be filled with drums and unorthodox fashion) apart from the man in shadows at the other end of an seemingly ever expanding room. Facing west and turning north I followed him into a different room. This room was not empty, but it was seat-less. No four legged creatures on which to rest ones exhausted legs, the indoor climate so inherently unpleasant.

The room was lit and on the floor there was something unseen, or rather, it was just out of sight, hidden under what it was carrying, something heavy, making it seem weightless and hovering over the parquet. It was carrying metal; heavy, solid, shining.

The man who led me there was still in the room, looking somewhat nervous. He looked at the almost solid metal blocks. He could see that the blocks were not complete hyper-rectangles; there were recognizable images cut in the blocks. Reliefs. He could still see shimmers of other potential casts and stoneware reliefs, discarded due to practical conditions.

Now, the reliefs were cut in aluminium; a perfect compromise, and possibly a better solution. Their beginning was binary, set in order by software and complex bio-chemistry. High powered light beams shaped the aluminium into figurative layers. Aluminium, a metal with local pedigree, space age usability and biological hostility.

The relief on the right looked like a stylized jungle, with a sun and a snake. A detail of a 3d wire-frame, a draft of the relief, would have looked something like this:

When he looked at the relief, he was reminded of the sort of jungle that The Black Girl would beat her way through in search of truths and God, as told by an Irishman and illustrated by an Englishman, or maybe a primeval forest?

The second relief portrayed a man holding a book in one hand and a piece of paper in the other, and in the background, there were buildings, some symbols and what resembled a rocket being launched. The rocket was a distinct rocket shape, like the one in Tintin or the V2’s fired from Penemünde; famous for their screaming destruction of London. And the screaming coming across the sky; opening a famous American death-cult tech paranoia detective novel.

One of the only things I could remember from classical studies was the ionic pillar. So of course there was such a thing in the second relief.
The other man saw both potential and death in the second relief. He was familiar with the reference points in both style and symbols. The knifed edge of technology that could erupt so quickly, made him believe that, we could be standing at the threshold of a childhoods end; something that would definitely destroy the current human condition.
… continuity of our spiritual existence after death’ , or at least a symbolic death.

Looking at the third and last relief, I felt the momentum of the implied narrative. I felt, and I knew he felt the same thing, the ideas of a certain Jesuit’s spiritual concepts concerning human potentials, which the Jesuit thought would lead to the gods-head, or maybe less theologically, the Omega Point, Star Maker, UI, AC or similar. We were imagining being taken by our hands, while standing on a hill top, and sent traveling through time/space, and from a distance, we would watch how amino-acids in rapid haste evolve into primitive life, evolving into intelligent life, evolving; for me and him and us, into a incomprehensible life, evolving further into light/energy/eternity in the same plane as an imagined state of Absoluteness. That was the ambitious plane of the reliefs, positive potentials from contemporary fears.
It was three figures holding hands in an undetermined space, with stars and impossible mechanics as their only witness; a last and a first.

Kasper Holm Jensen, 2015

Afgang 2015 graduation at Kunsthal Charlottenborg

There is no way out of a circle (unless you have a limp), 2013

SD Video with sound 16:20 min

There is no way out of a circle (unless you have limp) solo at www.1280x650.com 2013

Relic, 2013

bronze

The comic book heroes, the role players and the trickster, 2013

HD video with sound 10:12 min

‘Esben & Kasper’ duo with Esben Gyldenløve BKS Garage, 2013