Passing through the door with an hourglass window, you enter a chamber (an attic? a mineshaft? a museum diorama?) with faceted sides. This crystalline structure holds back the weight of time, surrounding you with layers of sediment like a cross-section of the Earth.
The cutaway of this geological pastry welcomes you to explore and discover various objects embedded in its layers. This collection of ephemera links you to someone’s–or perhaps everyone’s–collected memories. Loved-to-death toys, obsolete technology, crystals and geodes, tattered clothing, water-damaged photographs, and various other remnants from a culture that is at once a familiar and alien form a moth-eaten, eroded, perforated picture of existence.
The chamber’s visual complexity is accompanied by an ethereal audio component, a signal beamed in from the outer reaches of eternity. Sound stretches and layers like the sediment around you, weaving together long, deep tones punctuated by a staccato of sound bites and snippets. Somewhere out there someone is randomly twisting a cosmic radio tuning knob.
KRTK is the place where brain waves and radio waves dance and decay, a celebration of the lasting power of the ephemeral. Inner and outer space shake hands. This is the void left over after the core sample is removed…a life-sized time capsule…the hourglass has been turned inside out.