This is a little bit weird, and I mean if I would not be a conceptual artist at the side, I would see myself in danger, but what happened is with Joseph Wagenbach, there were several filmmakers who wanted to do a movie about it, and in the end, it didn’t come through, but I kept all the stuff and more than 100 sculptures. So, at that time, my ex-husband was so genius and kind to help me, so basically he said, “You know what, we’ll use our basement and we just reinstall him here as a fictitious tenant.” And now, I still sometimes give tour to international curators who come visiting me to say, “Oh, let’s go to my tenant, you might be interested in what he does,” and I go to the basement and I give a kind of classy tour and then reveal it. ((Suddenly It Exists))

And yeah, he is really — he is deeply embedded, because his history and the German background have a lot to do with my parents’ generation. ((Suffered Very Much)) It’s a generation that — and now I speak about my biography — a generation that was basically not able to narrate their experience that was so full of atrocity and anger and hurt and wounds and guilt, and right so, I mean, and so Joseph Wagenbach was just born late enough to be not be drafted into the war, because his older brothers had been. ((Master, Shape Of Warfare, Stickers On Their Luggage, Warpath)) So, basically, he got away to be a perpetrator and — but he didn’t get away to be a victim, because he was a victim, and the language of art, he then developed out of that to try to cope with probably not having saved someone’s life at a moment he could have. He basically grew up just 10 kilometers away from Belsen Bergen. And there are all these hints in his biography, and that has a lot to do with my parents’ history and how I experienced it as a child, then the not-narration, the unbelievable silence that was looming over our house.