Homeless, 2017, takes up the method employed in Interior Season and shows a succession of shots of colourful tablecloths in the urban space. To the accompaniment of a melancholic air on the lute, the film begins with a track across a glittering blue sea, in which a seal is bobbing up and down in the sun. Occasionally interrupted by shots of the rain forest and a passing mountain landscape, to the rhythm of the music various coloured tablecloths are shown on walls, dustbins or skips in various cities at various times of the day or night. The tablecloths are pasted like posters to walls in the public space and demonstrate their aesthetic affinity to their mostly colourfully painted background. Sometimes the places repeat themselves, but as in a movement that turns and whirls ever more quickly about its own axis, their context blurs and in the end allows only the colourful tablecloths to be clearly recognized. They become the ambassadors and commentators of their surroundings and spring from a tradition that developed in Argentina during the dictatorship, when walls in the cities were pasted with white posters bearing the black outlines of missing friends and relatives. From this childhood memory, the wall in the city impressed itself on the artist as a medium of communication and, like the tablecloths, runs like a thread through all her films. The tablecloths themselves were leftovers from the former East Germany, a country that no longer exists. Created to protect or adorn tables, they have become pictures and ornaments for the urban space and point to something that is gone for ever. The closing sequence in Homeless shows a figure in a pink quilted jacket and ass’s head mask waving two of the tablecloths, repurposed as flags, back and forth, before finally leaving them outside a heavy locked door.
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