Hiorns has always been full of ideas, even when I was his tutor at Goldsmiths in the 90s (though I doubt I taught him much). Now, he says, he is less interested in ideas than in mood. Two life-size mannequins hang from cables and ropes trussed about their middles, kept aloft by two large electromagnets. One is almost lifelike, replete with tiny male nipples and chest hair, and a more-or-less realistic head and body. The other is all but dismembered, with articulated joints. He is stuffed, we are told, with the pages of Martin Heidegger’s Being and Time. All I can see is a padding of expanded foam. Heidegger, it seems, is indigestible.

¶ 10:26 PM