Viewers are invited to enter a big cross-shaped booth, and put their face in the cut out hole. Once inside, a joke only they can hear is whispered in their ear through a hidden speaker. At the same time, they are visible from the outside, and so are taking turns being the face of another joke. It is the same automated joke, enacted by a different person, again and again.

This work continues playing on symbols as links between form and abstraction. In Christian imagery the cross is inherently referencing this connection, as it is both an abstraction of a human body and the instrument of murder of the form it abstracted. Much has been said about the violence of abstraction, especially within discussions on computation, but also forcing the abstract into form can be violent- the violence of confining the boundless into a predefined shape. It is not about one transition or the other, but about trying to force together things that never exactly fit. The other side of this misfit is comedy, applying a generalising logic to an unfitting case. In ‘Fate and Character’, Walter Benjamin wrote that character, or self-consistency of actions despite different circumstances, is a basic trait of comedy. Comedy is when the tragic knot of guilt and inevitability evaporates into nothing, bringing the relief of discovering one’s own innocence. When logic is given permission to run all the way, the individual is dismissed of the weight of their freedom, therefore their agency, and finally their guilt. This is why laughter, for Benjamin, is a space of innocence.