Human Abrasion
An attempt at a social portait
Reactionary, situational improvisations on the double bass.
Captured in a train station hall roughly 30 min northeast of Berlin.
From 0–4 a.m. on November 16, during construction work, when people were waiting the whole night to take the bus to Berlin.
On the night of the switch to winter time, when the last train from Berlin was arriving.
On August 27, at temperatures between 15 and 26 degrees Celsius.A city that has adapted to the pulse of the times—
balanced itself out, only to come to rest in emptiness.
At first, a sluggish mass, reluctantly and defiantly setting out on the path of human erosion.
A path that stripped away its once industrial pride.
Since then, the remaining factories have produced only hollow people—
beings now nourished by dopamine, sustained by radical digitalization.
Empty people, and empty houses…
at the edge of an ever-expanding commuter belt—
a zone that hums and swells, shrill and unsettling.
The margin, trembling under a constantly reawakening tension,
beneath a disrupted power line.
People compel themselves to be free.
Yet unlike the migratory birds,
they are not at the station merely because of their name.