Wednesday, December 14, 2016

POSTCARD 3 after 4 photos by Esther Hiepler

Jennifer K Dick

Left over—
6x4: White. Plastic. Rectangles taped into place: barrier covering the absented storefront. Housefront? Peer, if to, into. What merchandise sleeps in the shadows? Whose family lounges between velour flowers on beat-up sofas from the ’70s? What is watched from inside? Out: 8 vertical Venetian blinds protect what is within from view through a glass front door. Above. Rolled in tight. Awning: yellow, white, light orange pin stripes. No words. Logos. Graffiti. Signage. 2: double-sided ventilation grates form lungs screwed to the front façade below the large panoramic window, close to sidewalk level, 5 horizontal ventilation slats, metallic gills, breathe the inside out, the outside in. 5x2+5x2 slivers of air sucking in and out of the space barely contained. Enclosed. Beyond the visible. Beyond the visible banality of ½ of a parking spot on the right which leaves the façade exposed to view. To viewers’ scrutiny. (Ours). Blueblack ⅓ of a car at left—trunk, back wheel, tinted back window (protection from my gaze)—hides what stands before the door. Base? steps? A stoop? A welcome mat? Sadness of emptiness in the vacant lot longing. The parking meter is a staff with a plastic bird house on top. If I put my 2 in and turn the dial, where can we go?

Esther Hiepler’s photos are on display at The Kunsthaus Baselland, Basel, until 8 January 2017.
For more, see Esther Hiepler's home site: or