WOLFY SUNSET
Selected Projects
About
Installation view of the boxing gloves on their mirrored display plinth. © KunstHausWien, Foto: Iris Ranzinger
I Wish We Had More Time (2026) is an exhibition created by the Institute of Queer Ecology for the 2026 Klima Biennale Wien at KunstHausWien, Vienna and curated by Stephan Kuss and Veronika Hackl.
It brings together experiences of loss at three interconnected scales: relationships between species, within human communities, and between individuals.
Ecologically, the exhibition considers how climate disruption unsettles the timing through which lives depend on one another: flowering, pollination and other encounters fall out of sync. Within queer communities, it turns to the ruptures of the AIDS epidemic and the work of chosen families, oral histories and archives in sustaining connections across generations. At the intimate scale, it explores heartbreak, missed encounters, separation and the ache of what might have been.
Conceived as an evolving archive of queer loss, the exhibition invited artists to make immediate responses to a turbulent moment. Together, their contributions trace the relationships through which life is sustained—and what happens when those relationships are interrupted.
It brings together experiences of loss at three interconnected scales: relationships between species, within human communities, and between individuals.
Ecologically, the exhibition considers how climate disruption unsettles the timing through which lives depend on one another: flowering, pollination and other encounters fall out of sync. Within queer communities, it turns to the ruptures of the AIDS epidemic and the work of chosen families, oral histories and archives in sustaining connections across generations. At the intimate scale, it explores heartbreak, missed encounters, separation and the ache of what might have been.
Conceived as an evolving archive of queer loss, the exhibition invited artists to make immediate responses to a turbulent moment. Together, their contributions trace the relationships through which life is sustained—and what happens when those relationships are interrupted.
Freeze Response (2026) is a work in two parts: a moving-image performance on a frozen lake, and a sculpture made from the same children’s boxing gloves.
Part One
A boxer fights on a frozen lake. The gestures promise action, but the struggle leads nowhere. This futile encounter connects the paralysis of ecological crisis with the intimate experience of a relationship caught in deadlock. The past freezes the present. Faced with overwhelming challenge, a body, a heart or a society can become stuck: unable to respond, even as the need for action grows. The boxer’s repeated efforts embody that contradiction—constant movement within a state of freeze.
The moving-image work emerged through heartbreak and an inability to communicate: the heart freezing over, each attempt to reach another person repeating the impasse. These experiences mirror a collective difficulty in responding to ecological breakdown, where awareness and urgency can coexist with immobilisation. The frozen landscape becomes both the setting for this struggle and an image of its emotional condition.
A looped fragment of SOPHIE’s Is It Cold in the Water? accompanies the boxer on the ice, nestling them in a soundtrack of queer loss and what might have been.
Part One
A boxer fights on a frozen lake. The gestures promise action, but the struggle leads nowhere. This futile encounter connects the paralysis of ecological crisis with the intimate experience of a relationship caught in deadlock. The past freezes the present. Faced with overwhelming challenge, a body, a heart or a society can become stuck: unable to respond, even as the need for action grows. The boxer’s repeated efforts embody that contradiction—constant movement within a state of freeze.
The moving-image work emerged through heartbreak and an inability to communicate: the heart freezing over, each attempt to reach another person repeating the impasse. These experiences mirror a collective difficulty in responding to ecological breakdown, where awareness and urgency can coexist with immobilisation. The frozen landscape becomes both the setting for this struggle and an image of its emotional condition.
A looped fragment of SOPHIE’s Is It Cold in the Water? accompanies the boxer on the ice, nestling them in a soundtrack of queer loss and what might have been.
Part Two
Alongside the film, the same pair of children’s boxing gloves is transfigured into ornaments of spring. Roadkill turned opulent by the hands of care.
Found on a Berlin street and received by Sunset as a gift from the city, the gloves were transformed together with Cassidy Sundance. Given a chrome finish, they were encrusted with shattered windscreen fragments, broken glass, abandoned bits and pieces, oyster shells foraged from the river, and the first flowers of spring, then coated in epoxy and resin. Materials bearing the traces of damage and abandonment become a surface of colour, reflection and fragile beauty.
The gloves hold another possibility within the freeze: incubation. Their preserved flowers suggest that a period of apparent stillness may shelter something taking shape, even before growth becomes visible. Made through the experience of being stuck, they are a testament to the beauty that can emerge from it. The work holds the pain of paralysis alongside the possibility that the frozen heart might also be keeping something alive.
Together, the struggle on the ice and the ornamented gloves bring relational and ecological crisis into the same field of feeling, asking what might be held within the freeze—and what could grow from it.
Alongside the film, the same pair of children’s boxing gloves is transfigured into ornaments of spring. Roadkill turned opulent by the hands of care.
Found on a Berlin street and received by Sunset as a gift from the city, the gloves were transformed together with Cassidy Sundance. Given a chrome finish, they were encrusted with shattered windscreen fragments, broken glass, abandoned bits and pieces, oyster shells foraged from the river, and the first flowers of spring, then coated in epoxy and resin. Materials bearing the traces of damage and abandonment become a surface of colour, reflection and fragile beauty.
The gloves hold another possibility within the freeze: incubation. Their preserved flowers suggest that a period of apparent stillness may shelter something taking shape, even before growth becomes visible. Made through the experience of being stuck, they are a testament to the beauty that can emerge from it. The work holds the pain of paralysis alongside the possibility that the frozen heart might also be keeping something alive.
Together, the struggle on the ice and the ornamented gloves bring relational and ecological crisis into the same field of feeling, asking what might be held within the freeze—and what could grow from it.