Outside, birds are chirping, and spring appears to have arrived. The migratory birds are back from overwintering in another world—but in the wrong place and at the wrong time. An early summer has fooled them. 

Inside, we encounter birds—or fragments of them—both caged and free, yet in fractured states. They appear in metamorphic and symbiotic fusions with their habitats, which are shaped by both their natural environment and human transformation. They’ve entered another universe, and the house has become their biotope. In a sphere of magical realism, even time has leapt out of its clock-cage, leaving a tear in the veil between worlds.

Like the cage, the clock becomes a symbol of our human desire to control the wild. The urge to possess, comprehend, reject, and refine. The wristwatch is a human conquest over time—we own time and adorn ourselves with it. In WILD WATCH, the double meaning of “watch” emerges: to observe and guard, but also to objectify. In a way, clocks function as prosthetics for something within us we cannot govern. Perhaps a clock should be more like an ear, a sense of time that listens, rather than capture and control.

Rooted in what is discarded or concealed, Tysse gives new life to found materials, which she adorns, decorates and assembles. Bird wings, leaves, rims, and logs are cared for and combined into contemporary myths. The bird appears as an overarching mythical figure and metaphor for freedom—moving through a realm where human limits, structures, and hierarchies do not exist. To access that freedom, we have invented flying machines that mimic birds and lift us into the sky – but that also that kill and threaten birds and their habitats every day. For Tysse, working with birds is also personal. As the daughter of an ornithologist, her works reflect fragmented memories from a childhood as the daughter of a birdwatcher.

In myth and folklore, birds’ behaviours and cycles are associated with warnings and signs of what’s to come. The owl, a symbol of wisdom and foresight, is tied to the underworld and is said to foretell death. How paradoxical, then, that several owl species now face extinction?

— Emma Lomell