Indien: Hanna Mattes and Eva Mattes
19 Nov 2025-6 Feb 2026
On a rooftop in Berlin, Eva and Hanna — mother and daughter — speak of a house in Brandenburg called “India.” It is not India; it is here. Horizons captured day after day on the Pacific meet a shimmering curtain of praline foils. “If I put the cup here and say it is art, then it is art,” Hanna insists, and the house seems to nod. Their words oscillate — loud / quiet, grief / joy, domestic / monumental — until the imagined praline is unwrapped, comma by comma, each glittering paper a window. Eva says — dušo moja; I hear my grandmother’s refrain srce moje—and the house called India becomes a compass: for inheritance, for love, for the fragile line where water turns to air.
by Marija Grujić