Friedrich Kunath’s Untitled charges quotidian materials with tense drama. Set upon a round dais, a gathered circle of thirteen lamps of various designs and heights shine inward upon an enlarged cartoon taken from the New Yorker. The lamps are accompanied by various kitschy ornamental figurines, including a number of the clown Pierrot. The cartoon made subject to this strange inquisition depicts a man and a woman shipwrecked on an island, hiding from their rescuers behind a palm tree. The caption is missing, heightening the work’s disquieting aura of mystery. Summing up Kunath’s approach to art-making are his thoughts on becoming an artist: ‘I can only refer to Werner Herzog, who said that the only artists left are those working in the circus. It might sound pathetic but I believe art chooses you and ideally you are in it for a gradual and lifelong construction of wonder and serenity.’ In elevating the everyday to a staged and surprising spectacle, Untitled accomplishes just that.