Grazer Kunstverein – Now, 13.12. 2025 – 22. 3. 2026

‘Now, having mostly air left, they thought of making kites.’

Now, is not only a measure of time. It is the hinge of an argument. It holds the present open and lets a sequence tip forward. Each utterance lodges something in the moment and, at the same time, releases it onward. It is both pause and propulsion – an interval that leans into consequence.

Now, arrives as an announcement. Not as a call for attention, but as the quiet signal that something is about to begin, that the next gesture is already forming. It is spoken again and again, each time marking another turn – another fold, another added weight, another surface brought into question. We build from these small declarations. Each decision enters the room with the force of a beat.

That beat is not metaphorical. It is a drum: skin pulled, metal set trembling, sticks conducting pressure from one point to another. Now, becomes audible in the tension between materials, in their minute shifts, in the resonance that grows when they resist or when they give. It does not announce an end, but a continuation; it sets the pace at which the work finds itself.

A torch flares and tin releases its weight. Fibreglass flexes against the hand’s expectation – the sudden lift of a sheet of paper testing the air. A material argument.

‘Now, what is a kite compared to a bird?
Or a drum?’

Galerie Meyer Kainer – Now and The non-watch

Now and The non-watch is an extension of the exhibition Now, that is currently shown at Grazer Kunstverein.

A central motif of Now, was the drum, but already at Grazer Kunstverein the drum had crossed a tipping point, (like now, introducing a sequence tipping forward, the drum introduced an interval leaning into consequence), falling naturally into a clock.

Now the big clock grew 3 times as big, and watching the film from Now, means at one point to go back in time, in a reverse beat. Here in Vienna, watches can also include niches, or pocketed time.

Looking back in time, an excerpt from Philip K. Dick’s The Man in the High Castle, that Schultz used in a previous exhibition here at Meyer Kainer now made sense again, a scene that describes a deep investigation into the squiggle of silver.