When sculptor Shirley Tse received an invitation from her former student Anna Hrund Másdóttir to create an exhibition at the Kling and Bang gallery in Reykjavik, she immediately thought of collaborating with her friend and former teacher, filmmaker Dana Berman Duff.
Both artists share interests in geography, landscape, desire, and time, which led to a remarkable exhibition exploring the interplay of physical elements like breath, the moon, and tides that connect us to the universe.
Under the name “Relational,” Tse and Berman Duff’s exhibition, The Universe Breathes Us, debuted at Kling and Bang in 2025 and later appeared at Shoshana Wayne Gallery in Los Angeles this summer. Each version featured a live choral performance of an original song by Berman Duff and her husband, Alan Duff Berman. The exhibition impressed with its understated yet intricate elements and the way they interacted. Tse’s photograph, “Orkney Moon” (2025), depicts a soccer ball wrapped in rice paper on a Scottish island, transforming into a moon-like object that evolves into sculptures throughout the gallery, accompanied by Duff’s video projections. In “The Other Side of the Moon Is Not Dark” (2025), a large moon rotates slowly, while “The Breathing Ocean (Portal)” (2026) features the moon merging with a video of an Icelandic choir, creating an effect reminiscent of the northern lights.
In a nearby room, the installation Sun and Moon (2025) combines film and sculptural elements to great effect. Tse’s rice-paper moon, suspended by thread from the ceiling, casts changing shadows in the light of Duff’s 16mm projector, with the reel’s tail end flapping ceaselessly.
Having followed both artists for over two decades, I found The Universe Breathes Us to be a refreshing new direction. On August 4, we gathered at the gallery for a discussion, and this conversation has been condensed and edited for clarity.
Chris Kraus: The exhibition is beautiful and presents many topics to discuss. First, you formed a collective under the name Relational?
Dana Berman Duff: Yes, we did.
CK: But rather than a traditional collaboration, you worked in dialogue with each other. How did this concept emerge?
Shirley Tse: Watching the eight-minute Orkney Moon video in the hallway provides context for our collaboration. During a residency in Scotland two years ago, I began researching tidal turbine power. My recent work focuses on sustainability, and tidal power is renewable energy. Initially, I thought this new work would focus on engineering aspects like turbine blades. However, I read a sentence that altered my direction: “Tidal power is the only form of power we harness from the Moon.” Tides result from the gravitational pull between the Moon, Earth, and Sun—a relational force. This reminded me of a quote from Yoga Anatomy about breathing: the atmosphere’s weight pushes air into our bodies, breaking the subject-object relationship. I didn’t want to exhibit solo in Reykjavik, so I invited Dana to collaborate, creating a relational force with an artist I deeply admire.
DBD: I must clarify that our collaboration wasn’t conventional—we made individual pieces. It’s a relational collaboration. My work wouldn’t exist without Shirley’s.
CK: Could you clarify what a tidal turbine is?
ST: A tidal turbine is a renewable energy device similar to a wind turbine. It harnesses energy from tidal currents to generate electricity.
CK: That’s fascinating.
ST: Yes! Unlike solar or wind power, it’s lunar power! I found it poetic and had to create art about it.
DBD: That’s why there are so many moons.
CK: The exhibition notebook contains many emails between you. Dana, you mentioned shifting from sculpture to film to work with time. Can you elaborate?
DBD: Yes, but I engaged with time long before film. Influenced by Buddhism and structuralist film, I grew frustrated with creating permanent objects. I wanted to explore impermanence, making sculptures from transient materials, which no longer exist. Film allowed me to use representation and time, mirroring meditation and presence.
CK: There’s an intriguing calculation in the notebook where you divide the moon’s rotational speed by its volume?
DBD: [Laughs] It’s a scale exercise. I scaled the moon’s diameter to that of the projected moon, yielding a ratio. Then, I multiplied 29.5 days (the moon’s rotation period) by this ratio, resulting in two hours and 40 minutes.
CK: So it’s like a mathematical poem?
DBD: Indeed. Every decision must be structurally based, not on taste. I was thrilled the projection lasted two hours and 40 minutes, barely perceptible—like my other 16mm films.
CK: Would you say breath is a central theme of the exhibition?
ST: Yes. Breath and breathing.
CK: With the Yoga Anatomy quote on the wall, how did you approach this theme in the show?
ST: Relational force, embodied by breath, is central to the exhibition. Movement arises not from the body but from relational differences between two entities. This dynamic creates the illusion of separate entities. It’s both poetic and critical. The individualist mentality has led to global chaos. Our model of relational, no-self challenges the isolated individual asserting power.
CK: I’m curious about the Bobbing Moon sculptures in the main room. How did they evolve from the Orkney Moon soccer ball?
ST: The sphere shape originated from the Orkney Moon project. The photograph of the white ball in Scotland, the hanging sculpture in the Sun and Moon installation, and the video share the title Orkney Moon. The sphere isn’t just an object; it’s an event in various forms.
Dana’s moon projection shows the moon from the sun’s perspective, revealing its 360-degree view without a dark side. This perspective inspired my “Bobbing Moon” sculptures. While they don’t move physically, they imply movement, balanced delicately between their weight, angles, and stones. My sculptures’ fragility reflects life’s fragility.
During the opening, attendees accidentally disrupted the sculptures’ balance. They kindly helped reset them, but I gently urged, “Let go, let go!” Finding your center requires letting go.
DBD: Yes, and we’ve suspended “individual authorship” in this exhibition. All works are credited to Relational, even those untouched by the other. Shirley’s mind inspired my work here. The interaction created everything.
ST: I used materials from my studio, avoiding new purchases for sustainability. Tent poles make the sculptures collapsible, easing transport and storage.
CK: Shirley, sound seems new to your work, but Dana, it’s always been vital in your films. How did sound influence this exhibition?
DBD: Sound lets me work with time. It’s another image space. Sound evokes mental imagery. In this installation, hearing breathing affects your body in the space.
CK: It’s like being inside a giant body.
DBD: Gradually, at Shirley’s suggestion, we added ocean waves, tying back to the tidal concept, along with the unsettling noise of underwater turbines. It’s not pleasant, but it’s ethical to include. A calming musical piece by Alan plays, then returns to the choir.
CK: Finally, the sculpture in the other room is incredible. Standing in the middle, it’s immersive and brilliant. The flapping film, the football, the shadows—they encapsulate the exhibition’s ideas. How did you create it?
DBD: I decided to create the sun for Shirley’s moon.
Working with 16mm film and projectors, I wanted to evoke something apocalyptic and melancholic: the haunting sound of a 16-millimeter projector running out of film, flap, flap, flap. It’s alarming, and I wanted to capture that sensation of, “Oh no! The film is over!”
ST: When the Orkney Moon “sculpture” emerged, I thought it was my most beautiful creation because I didn’t make it alone. I started without plans, letting go of ego and prejudice. By observing children and incorporating their interests, Orkney Moon created itself! Initially solid, it became a drawing after I removed the rice paper for my niece Sandra to “conserve” it. Kicked by my nephew Tiger, it collected chlorophyll and soil—becoming a drawing by nature’s hand. I didn’t want it to be a static object in an exhibition; it had to be an event. My friend Jessica Bronson suggested making a book to provide context, inspiring the exhibition notebook. Perhaps this project exists in both physical and literary spaces, giving people a sense of encompassing the whole world.
