Transit spaces are places of an absolute present; they are designed for minimal friction, as if the weight of the past could burden those who pass through them: Whatever traces of the past there are, they are few and short-lived. No personal objects of daily use tell of any history, and whatever physical remnants left behind by travelers are quickly removed by the cleaning crews.

We created a space that can be everything a train station is not and will therefore enable us to project the past into it: Like a quantum entangled twin, this other space reacts to whatever remnants the present leaves – transplanted there so we can better preserve and examine them. The exhibition space will thus become the train station’s acting memory, processing traces of the past in order to form new memories from them.

The memories we are creating are imperfect reconstructions and thus actually something new. In this sense they resemble their human counterpart: recollection is the same as (re-)imagination.