On Falling

2026 /Multi-media installation / 90s stereo, scaffold, CCTV banner, moving-image, sound, painting, light, rope

Conceived as a dream incubation chamber, On Falling by Antonia Luxem examines falling as a structural condition of collapse and renewal. Drawing on Luxem’s sustained engagement with dreams, hypnosis and altered states – alongside mythic narratives of descent such as Sisyphus, Icarus and Dante’s Inferno– the exhibition considers falling as a circular process of replay.

On Falling unfolds as a red-lit, snail-like installation combining film, painting, sound and performance to form a sequence of interconnected spaces. Suspended elements, projections and textured surfaces establish a structure organised around looping, delay and return. This reflects the recursive logic of falling and dreaming as an ongoing process that operates in an infinite loop: falling gives way to dreaming, dreaming gives way to falling, each state generating the conditions of the other. Within this cycle, attention intensifies, intention emerges, and linear time begins to fracture, producing states of disorientation in which the boundaries of the self loosen up. At the centre of the structure, a volcanic stone operates as a material anchor.

On Falling extends Luxem’s cinematic practice into a spatial format, allowing the temporal logics of her film work – repetition, suspension, interruption – to operate across multiple media. Recurrent images and fragmented vocal material register the unstable threshold between waking consciousness and dream states.

Through continued engagement with the dreaming–falling cycle, falling becomes a method that can be practised beyond the exhibition space – as a form of knowledge – through which linear time expands and slips, perception sharpens, and the self becomes unstable. Within this instability, processes of self-exploration take place, allowing emotional and psychic material to surface. At the point of transformation, a metaphysical shift takes place: time is felt differently, and new relations to the world are made possible.

Alongside the exhibition, a new publication of Antonia Luxem’s essay 'A Manual On Falling And Dreaming', published by Burley Fisher Community Press.

Curated by Mariana Lemos

Gallery: ANNEX by The Koppel Project

Exhibition text by Mariana Lemos:

ON FALLING

Antonia Luxem

You arrive at the antechamber; red light floods the room, a '90s stereo plays low-fi, slightly distorted romantic songs. In front of you, there are two doors; you will have to choose. 

From the one on the left, a deeper red emanates through glass squares, like peepholes into the next room. The word fall is scribbled on the wall with an arrow pointing at the door. 

We lose gravity and tumble, trip, slip. Falling implies a loss of balance, a surrender of emotional control, like the dizziness and danger of a physical fall. Falling is a transitory space, something shifts in perception. 

That moment suspended in the air when we look down and just know – oh oh – it’s going to hurt. 

Why do we fall? 

Why do we fall in love? 

It is like losing ground, taking a flight, throwing yourself wholeheartedly. Headfirst. Head over heels.

Courage is necessary to launch oneself up in the air like that, to trust.

Why do we fall asleep?

It is not that we move downward, but rather idiomatic and passive, changing states from being awake to dreaming. Muscles relax abruptly, and the body transforms. Here comes the hypnic jerk, that sensation of falling followed by a sudden contraction that feels like tripping, sometimes blending into our dreams, creating a vivid, brief fall into the void, only to wake up in a jolt.

A sudden change, a rapid shift, a transition. 

Hypnagogia is the mental transition from awake to sleep. 

Falling is like being swept away by emotions that override logic.

Why do we fall ill? A lack of control, it is unplanned and involuntary. 

You've got to hit the bottom of the well to pick yourself up. 

Gravity / love / sickness has taken hold of us.

Butterflies in the stomach. Passion. Falling into a trap, falling into sin, falling into temptation. Desire. 

Dive in, deeper. What is in there, in the darkness if not your deepest desire, your true self? 

A fall always comes with some bruising.

The other door on the right glows acid green, spilling into the antechamber in strips through the hinges. The glass squares are giving sci-fi, X-Files, Twin Peaks. Here, the arrow says dream.

Falling is a plunge into a deep emotional state. Which door are you taking?

Inside, there are multiple pathways. Red velvet curtains create semi-circles separating the space and guiding us on. On Falling unfolds as a snail-like installation combining film, painting, sound and performance to form a sequence of interconnected spaces. Considering Luxem’s long interest in dreams, hypnosis and altered states – alongside mythic narratives of descent such as Sisyphus, Icarus and Dante’s Inferno – the exhibition thinks of falling as a circular process of replay. 

A ladder, a spotlight, scaffolding, various film projections, a wall made of TVs, another made of paintings – establish a method organised around looping, delay and return. On Falling extends Luxem’s cinematic practice into a spatial format, allowing the temporal logics of her film work – repetition, suspension, interruption – to operate across multiple media. Recurrent images and fragmented sounds register the unstable threshold between waking consciousness and dream states.

This reflects the recursive logic of falling and dreaming as an ongoing process that operates in an infinite spiral: falling gives way to dreaming, dreaming gives way to falling, each state generating the conditions of the other. 

Through continued engagement with the dreaming–falling cycle, falling becomes a method that can be practised beyond the exhibition space – as a form of knowledge – through which linear time expands and slips, perception sharpens, and the self becomes unstable. Within this instability, processes of self-exploration take place, allowing emotional and psychic material to surface. 

At the point of transformation, a metaphysical shift takes place: time is felt differently, and new relations to the world are made possible. 

Within this cycle, attention intensifies, intention emerges, and linear time begins to fracture, producing states of disorientation in which the boundaries of the self loosen up. At the centre of our journey, we find a volcanic stone and a flower. You can rest here, lie down.