The Belgian artist Caroline Coolen studied sculpture in Antwerp and has also devoted herself extensively to the medium of film. In her works, she condenses images and objects gathered from everyday life into a sculptural mise-en-scène throwing what is seen into a new light. In the process, she uses and combines the most varied materials. Her “Self-portrait as a landscape” is cast in durable bronze, yet seems to be made of heaving branches and tree-trunks, groping like some strange animal for a sure foothold on the ground. Altogether, it resembles an uprooted tree, awkwardly searching for a new location. The high stem with its rough bark supports the artist’s head, whose hair, in an ironic gesture, seems to be blowing in the wind as if she is running. Coolen’s second contribution to “Blickachsen 10” uses images in a similar way to erect an ironically broken monument. The huge, luminous “Flag” turns the familiar upside down: the flag is not fluttering on a pole as a symbol, nor is it stuck into the ground as a sign of possession. Rather, it holds itself up, over two metres high, after its pole, the stem of a young birch tree, seems to have been ripped out of the ground.