Sorry for the inconvenience
_invitation
_context
This installation addresses the housing situation in the Netherlands. Many of us who moved to the country to study, found it extremely hard to find a place to stay. Since I moved to Rotterdam 2 years ago, I've moved 5 times. After I finally found a place with a permanent and secure rental contract, I faced another issue. Between January and May I lived in a studio that had leakage on the ceiling and the "big housing company" (as addressed in the audio pieces) did not resolve it for almost 4 months. In this installation, the maddening situation is illustrated with visual and sound - poetry made out of the support ticket and letters exchanged with the tenant care support, property manager and maintenance coordinator. Mixed with the monotonous sound of the drops.
_build up
_audio letters
The sonic piece is a dialogue between me and the >big housing company<'s team members. During the 4 months, over their platform's tickets, I have been in touch with four people at the company: two tenant care members, one property manager, and one property repair coordinator. Their names are hidden and addressed as Person 1, 2, 3, and 4. Another repair coordinator is only mentioned (person 5), but she never got in touch with me directly. Their letters are voiced with an AI (Natural Readers), because whilst reading their answers, I felt like I was communicating with robots, and no humans. Seeing how this issue was handled by them brought feelings of strong anger, frustration, helplessness, and depression to me. I was puzzled how is it possible that they left me to live like that for such a long time, especially knowing how much I was paying for that apartment. When I was reading my letters to them, I was having covid-19 - thus, my voice naturally was weak and changed due to the illness. I felt that was a great fit for the way I was feeling while writing those letters, so my voice could sound a bit closer to what it would be when reflecting those emotions.
_illustration
The visual medium of the installation depicts the wet spot on the ceiling I've been watching growing between January and May 2023. During that time, I was calling it "the alien", because it felt like I had a living creature as a roommate who could surprise me every day with a new development. It was also positioned over my bed, so it was the first thing I saw before falling asleep and when waking up in the morning.