In her installation it takes a village to dump a chair, Sanna Leone explores the question of what responsibility we have for the things we leave behind, examining the attribution of value and utility. In doing so, she draws on the genre of the vanitas still life, a type of image that alludes to the transience of human existence through the depiction of symbolic objects. For her work, she uses discarded goods from flea markets, largely sourced from estate clearances — objects that were forgotten, lost, or left behind at the flea market at Bahrenfelder Trabrennbahn.

The artist collected the items for her installation at two different points in time after the market had closed: some before the refuse service cleared the site; others had slipped through even that net. Crushed in gravel or scattered among piles of leaves, they had become part of the surroundings and thus invisible. Particularly numerous are objects whose significance arises solely from a personal or emotional attachment rather than from their actual material value or practical use. Alongside toiletries and discarded documents, these especially include decorative and ornamental objects. The artist’s collection offers glimpses of past lives that converge in the car park.

When someone dies, the value of their personal belongings is renegotiated. The person who originally gave them meaning is no longer alive. The obstinacy and sudden insignificance of the objects clash with capitalist and ideologically shaped standards of valuation. Yet the remnants persist despite these processes — on windowsills, beneath parked cars, or in rubbish tips – lingering in a state of limbo.

Places of transit such as train stations or public squares are sites where social divisions may become particularly visible, for example, Leopoldplatz in Berlin or the area around the Drob Inn, a contact and counselling centre providing drug consumption rooms not far from Hamburg Central Station. Addiction, homelessness and acute survival strategies collide here with urban mobility, shopping, art and culture. Precisely at this crystallisation point, Daniel Hopp’s work sets in.

At the centre of his first institutional solo exhibition is the multi-part film installation Fictional Healing. In this work, the artist questions stigmatizing narratives associated with addiction and introduces images of care that open up new scope for action. Blending humour and seriousness, the immersive installation forms a resonant whole in which collective imagination enables self-empowerment. Based on his own experiences, Daniel Hopp developed documentary and (docu-)fictional film scenes in relationship-oriented processes together with people affected by addiction. Their personal histories, dreams and fantasies were explored in interviews and subsequently interpreted by amateur and professional actors. In addition, a series of video portraits provides insights into the protagonists’ lives.

Within a monumental spatial architecture, films and AI-generated images converge to create a powerful experience, borne by a soundscape that unfolds across the entire hall. The exhibition highlights social issues and reveals how reality, documentation, collective imagination and cinematic fiction can become intertwined – resulting in a work that is both touching and unsettling, and raises questions about responsibility, representation and the necessary conditions for participation.