steel, wood, gypsum
dimensions variable
ink on paper
4,7 x 6,3 inch

photographs: Sophia Purbasari 

The breath of a house is the sound of the voices within.
A house is only afraid of gods, fire, wind, and silence.
A house is born, lives, and dies and is named house.
The house gains immortality when it becomes only a thought that
ceases to exist.
The house can hear death by it‘s total silence.
Deaths dimension is one. 
Sentences on the House and Other Sentences 



Fritjof Mangerich is interested in the »absence« embodied by the objects around us. He is drawn to the ghostliness lingering behind, inside, underneath things. He seeks ways to feel and listen to the stored traces of what has been and what remains in a given place, ways to sense the atmospheres and voices of »tuned« space.

This interest was acutely manifest in his architectural intervention of 2016, eine andere Stimme (a different voice), in a temporarily vacant house in Braunschweig. Much like Rachel Whiteread, who in her groundbreaking sculpture Ghost (1990) »mummified« the interior of a house slated for demolition, Mangerich probed and preserved the essence, the being, of the one- or two- family house.

Using five large funnel-shaped sculptures mounted in the windows of five rooms, he conveyed the air, the atmosphere, the intangibility of space to the outside in the form of soundwaves. These he generated by means of the archetypal acoustic test: in each of the five selected rooms, he clapped loudly and clearly with his hands, recording the sound event in real time and then playing back the preserved sound electronically. In the meeting of the impulse and the impulse response of the space, the characteristics of the various rooms became perceptible. 

Like an organism, the structure expressed itself, exposing its interior to the outside world. This solidification of sound, as it were, prompted Mangerich to compare his sound-based sculptural process with filling a negative mould with sculptural material, one of the oldest methods of shaping there is. Through this process, the artist got to know the uninhabited house, as he said himself. He brought the hollow and yet filled, silent and yet speaking rooms of an erstwhile dwelling place into dialogue with both the immediate surroundings and the viewer. 



in situ at Pippelweg,
Braunschweig, Germany
eine andere Stimme
gypsum, ply wood (birch), modelling stands,
steel rope, speaker, wire, amplifier, WAV-Player, various


untitled (voice)
graphite on paper 3,5 x 5 inch
Hejduk, John. Such Places as Memory Poems 1953 - 1996.
The MIT Press, Cambridge/London, 1998. 
dusk piece
paraffin wax, vaseline, acrylic, glycerin,
hydroxyethylcellulose, hydantoin,
sodium hydroxide, water, 
Tatonka© Baikal 70 trekking backpack,
Osprey© custom moldable hip belt and
harness shoulder straps.
photographs: Jana Schulz and Fritjof Mangerich 
dimensions variable
In situ at various locations in Manhattan, New York, USA:
To the People of New York City
Glas, speaker, transducer, wire,
amplifier, WAV-Player, batteries.
E 12th Street and Avenue B,
E 13th Street and Avenue A,
W 19th Street and 11th Avenue (pictured above),
Crosby Street and Grand Street (pictured above),
E 28th Street and Mount Carmel Place,
E 52nd Street and 2nd Avenue,
W 129th Street and St Nicholas Terrace,
photographs: Fritjof Mangerich 

photographs: Sophia Hamann 

E 12th Street and Avenue B

E 13th Street and Avenue A

W 19th Street and 11th Avenue

Crosby Street and Grand Street

E 28th Street and Mount Carmel Place

E 52nd Street and 2nd Avenue

W 129th Street and St Nicholas Terrace

Noise, chaotic, has no rhythm. However, the attentive ear begins to separate out, to distinguish the sources, to bring them back together by perceiving interactions.
If we cease to listen to sounds and noises and instead listen to our bodies […], we normally grasp […] neither the rhythms nor their associations, which nonetheless constitute us. It is only in suffering that a particular rhythm breaks apart, modified by illness. The analysis comes closer to pathology than habitual arrhythmia.

In order to grasp and analyse rhythms, it is necessary to get outside them, but not completely: be it through illness or a technique. A certain exteriority enables the analytic intellect to function. However, to grasp a rhythm it is necessary to have been grasped by it; one must let oneself go, give oneself over, abandon oneself to its duration.

Lefebvre, Henri. Rhythmanalysis. Bloomsbury, London, 1992.


Rhythmanalysis: Space, Time and Everyday Life

W 129th Street and St Nicholas Terrace

Fritjof Mangerich                         +49 (157) 34423492                          fritjof_mangerich(at)

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