INTRODUCTION

[...] One week has passed, and I'm still fascinated by the layer of dust on the warehouse floor. When we entered the space last week, the whirled up dust caused an acute itching. I can't rule out the possibility that it contains toxic or harmful elements. This only makes my venture more interesting and exciting.

My initial plan was to remove the dust by means of an (industrial) vacuum cleaner. I would then gather it on one or two spots in the space, waiting for further processing. That idea is still valid.

If I want to use the dust as a raw material for my art work, I can't allow myself to be naive; I'll have to arm myself in a proper way. During working hours, I will protect myself with a set of disposable overalls and dust masks.This dressing up adds a performative element to my contribution.

For Klondike River, I -like the gold diggers once did- invest my time and effort in a simple, dirty activity, of which the profit is totally uncertain in both material and artistic respect. I want to make a virtue of need: I am convinced that I will hit upon a sensible idea during my laborious vacuuming ritual, and that I will find out the right application of that basic material, step by step, during my monotonous back and forth. The relatively dust-free floor might be a pleasant side effect for the Klondike River audience. Kill two birds with one stone? [...]

from an e-mail to Horst Griese as a result of the first explorations of the site, September 5, 2010.