Jahrgang Zwölf

Bastian Thiery



“One night, in my neighborhood, I saw a limping fox. He was curious, waited for me to approach him, running away when our distance became too small – only to wait again. I took five pictures of the fox that night, until he disappeared behind a fence, leaving me with the urge to encounter him again.” Driven by his chance encounter with the fox, Bastian Thiery tracks down its burrow. In this Territory, he’s a flaneur, defining the tempo, opening his eyes to what is collectively overlooked. On the fox’s trail, Thiery encounters lonely creatures and lost souls, approaches carefully and with sympathy. Both artist and observer delve into the dark fable of the lonely, limping fox, and into a disintegrating world with glimmers of light.