A staircase leads from the entrance to the upper rooms, monitors are installed on the walls in two different rooms upstairs, and a fake surveillance video simulating a "bitch fight".

For No Reason was part of the site-specific exhibition series Apple Thorne Project, in the Pool Hall in Berlin Mitte. Through manipulation of the surveillance system, staged, fake footage was mixed in with the real recordings. These fabricated scenes showed a fight that had been staged in the entrance hall a few days prior specifically for the exhibition. On the day of the exhibition, this created the impression that the scene displayed on the monitors was real and happening live on the ground floor. Most visitors, believing the scene to be real, did not attempt to intervene. Those who went downstairs to check perceived the scene as having just taken place, with the participants having only recently left. It created a performance whose impact relied not only on actual presence but on the spread of a rumor.

For no reason to fight; still, we are concerned about a staged threat. The cinematic plot hashed into an undercover operation – are most threats reality renders? Who protects me from the ones who care for me? – the watcher of the footage. Hyperbolic phenomenon, a pure reality show, if we just knew we were attending the new season. 

Ocularecentric society, the representation of ourselves on a screen is remarkably more candid than the dust that blows under the doors, and any somatic titillation. I sit in a tavern and stare at the TV with no suspicion. – Would I be damaged if I intervened? Cerberus may come, but I will sneak in to witness the mess; to my surprise, I am alone in the corridor, this has already happened. 

The surveillance gadget is glued with goo, dusky mud, sustaining this spectacle. —when are we finally responsive to this new eon? It has been decades since this Dewy principle governed us. Native problem makers in the streets of Berlin, like tarot arcane and ancient predicaments, are almost an orthodox icon to carry in one's wallet as a  souvenir, a surveillance relic, an amulet for this time fragmented verisimilar manufactured reality. 

Paula Pedraza