Featuring works by Caspar Frowein

2322 is a curatorial collective founded in 2022 by Tim Vormbäumen and Hannah Weidner. Emerging from a shared vocabulary developed during their time at Kunsthochschule Weißensee in Berlin, 2322 is not a gallery in the conventional sense, but a mobile curatorial project—performative in nature, critically engaged with the conditions of exhibition-making today. Its projects unfold across shifting geographies, ephemeral constellations, and fluid spatial arrangements that actively question the architecture of display itself.

While 2322 operates at a small-scale institutional level, its practice is deeply rooted in post-anthropocentric thought. Rather than pursuing purely naturalistic representations, the collective embraces abstract strategies and examines the latent possibilities embedded within art institutions. Their work navigates the afterlives of modernist exhibition formats and the intersections between institutional critique, material agency, and the poetics of space.

Their first exhibition series, Remote, was launched in 2022 in a Düttmann-designed Berlin office building. In response to a scarcity of physical space—and the precarity and alienation that often accompany it—Remote_01 proposed a curatorial method that transformed constraint into structure. Since then, 2322 has aligned itself with Post-Capitalist Realism, exploring how capitalism shapes both the art market and society, while imagining alternate modes of cultural production. Their programme draws on the thinking of figures such as Mark Fisher, Slavoj Žižek, Andreas Reckwitz, and Michel Foucault.

Recent Exhibition: Caspar Frowein at 2322

2322’s evolving programme recently featured by Caspar Frowein, whose practice moves fluidly between installation, storytelling, and speculative world-building.

Within the exhibition, spaces and objects are reimagined into alternate realities, phantasmagoric and porous,  where forms and territories dissolve into one another. Dreaming (of You) sets a cycle in motion: of unmaking and remaking, where nothing holds a fixed origin or end. The works appear on the verge of collapse, as if their very structure resists stability and permanence, here, is only an illusion.

The exhibition takes its name from Frowein’s ongoing sculptural installation Dreaming (of You), 2025 — a work that re-codes the real into reverie. First initiated in 2024, the piece continues to shift and mutate over time, opening glimpses into new mythologies of place. The 2025 iteration marks but one moment in this continuous unfolding.

Dreaming (of You), 2024–ongoing

In Dreaming (of You), Frowein presents a site-responsive installation that morphs with each iteration. Sculptural forms—both ambiguous and oddly familiar—are scattered across the space, resembling the remnants of a stage set. Some allude to functional objects, others resist interpretation altogether. This ongoing work reflects a dialogue between digitised spatial memories and artificial neural networks. Referencing the “hallucinations” of AI, the installation explores how spaces and their objects are coded and recoded, creating fleeting, poetic connections between physical materiality and data-driven abstraction.

Major and Minor Questions (The Killing of a CEO), 2025

This multimedia work places fable traditions in conversation with contemporary politics and media. In a modular, evolving environment, anthropomorphic animal figures enact fragmented narratives. Voiced through documentary materials and imagined texts, including court transcripts and manifestos, the piece destabilises linear storytelling and confronts viewers with a mixture of truth, fiction, and satire. By borrowing the distancing device of allegory, Frowein’s work opens up space to re-examine the ethics and aesthetics of power, absence, and representation.

Palimpsests (Major and Minor Questions), 2025

Here, Frowein extends his exploration of memory and erasure through CNC-engraved aluminium plates. The work functions as a living archive, where residual traces of earlier narratives are layered with new ones, overwritten and reprocessed in a continuous cycle. The installation is non-linear and fragmentary—figures surface, vanish, and reappear in altered forms. This palimpsestic logic challenges the idea of fixed authorship or meaning, suggesting instead a field of recursive transformation.

At its core, 2322 is driven by a desire to think differently about how art is shown and what institutions can become. With no permanent home or fixed rhythm, the collective resists traditional exhibition structures in favour of appearing unpredictably—where and when the conditions allow.

Their exhibitions are not just about aesthetics; they are conceptual gestures that probe the very frameworks of production and presentation. In doing so, 2322 invites audiences to reconsider what it means to view, curate, and experience art in the present moment—when both the cultural and ecological ground beneath us continues to shift.

2-3-2-2.com