Imagine the following situation. You have entered an elevator in a building that you know well. You have pressed the button to go to the floor of your choice. Several people have entered the elevator with you. Being absentminded sometimes, you did not really notice them, you didn’t pay attention. The elevator goes up, stops, the doors open, the others step out, you do the same. Then there is this moment of surprise: the moment that your brain tells your eyes ‘you can’t be really seeing that – this is not what our floor looks like’. You went out at the wrong floor, taking it for the right one. It takes a second or two to shift perception, a moment before eyes and brain have fought their battle and are aligned again. Grinning sheepishly, you turn to face the elevator and press the ‘up’ or ‘down’ button again.

This is the kind of moment that I try to create in my work. A moment when the brain and the eyes are not aligned. A moment of doubt, of confusion, of having to double-take something one takes for granted.

Games are – for the moment – my preferred forms. They act as ready-mades, as visual devices that can be recognised at a glance. Environments that need no explanation but draw upon a store of knowledge about what to do and how to play. Games pre-suppose a social pattern, project an instant expectation. It is this expectation that I play with.

I deconstruct my games, then re-construct them, making them different in a subtle way. To make perception and expected perception of my players be at odds, so that one has to re-negotiate and re-navigate reality. Like Carsten Holler, my purpose is to shake assumptions: to create doubt.