Julius Reichel floods Galerie Kostka with several hundred kilograms of discarded textiles, from which a single monumental object emerges—a mass that embodies the wear and tear and memories of many lives. The walls are adorned with the artist’s calligraphic texts and paintings, which, as always, reflect the chaos of a society slipping into apathy, oversaturated with both information and disinformation.

The title is no accident; even the name Julius Reichel itself is inherited, taken from his great-grandfather, whose fate shines through the fabric like a trace of the family lineage. Here, Reichel recycles matter, symbols, and blood—a legacy that cannot be cast aside, only rewritten again and again amid the visual and digital smog of the present.