Until very recently, the artist of this her work was in limbo. She was born to rouse and repel hunger and its dark blue empty spaces. So when her parents randomly missed her baptism, neighbours stepped in and baptised her in their absence. She was given the name W. But – a name that, when pronounced in her baby speak, rhymed with R. Mutt and the German word for poverty: Armut.
Initially her given name had been even shorter, incredibly short, just two strokes of a pen in fact: V. But when the priest wrote this down he felt it would be in the best interest of the baby to double it. V became W and, when twisted and turned to the right, the W formed a figure of 8 with the B of her last name: But. Thwarting the photographic laws of this readymade camera, it was the magical logic of this twist-and-turn-dyslexia that determined the size its pinhole: the measure of a black 8 ball. With the artwork now a gambling house, you’re invited to take a bet*: strike it right and you win, sink the black ill-timed and you lose. This pinhole will be closed one day before we dance into 2018.