Works by: Lea Marie Uria Garcia / Sarah Mosseller / Alex Goodchild
Alpheratz
Lea Marie Uria Garcia // AR
Single-channel video with sound and live performance, 5'23''
Praying Star centers on Alpheratz, a liminal star suspended between two constellations—officially belonging to Andromeda, yet historically claimed by Pegasus. Neither fully one nor the other, it exists on the threshold: the limen, in Latin. A door between worlds.
The video follows Alpheratz as it moves through states—point, ellipse, division, halo—while a text unfolds on screen tracing the star's resonance with Valentinian Gnosticism, a widespread Christian movement of the 2nd and 3rd centuries. The Valentinians practiced a sacrament called the Bridal Chamber, in which the soul reunites with its divine counterpart and recovers its original wholeness. They also believed in external messengers—activators capable of igniting the dormant divine spark, or pneuma, already present within each person.
Alpheratz is one of these messengers. It prays for us.
At the moment the video reaches its invocation—Alpheratz, pray for us— the artist enters the space and distributes bread inscribed with the word pneuma. Three jars of handmade jam, consecrated under the star's light, rest on an altar before the screen. The audience is invited to eat the word.
The piece proposes that the symbolic and the real are not opposites—and that the body can receive what the mind does not yet understand.
Alpheratz
Lea Marie Uria Garcia
Single-channel video with sound and live performance
5:23 Min
2026
Alpheratz
Sarah Mosseller // US
Hand-dyed wool yarn, latex adhesive, rage (2025)
Girls should feel uplifted when they look up at the stars. Of the 88 official constellations, only three represent women, and all three are tied to stories of violence or subjugation.
Andromeda is one of them: an Ethiopian princess, stripped of her identity and whitened by Western artists, her beauty is turned into justification for bondage.
This piece confronts the dual violence of Black erasure and misogyny. Here, Andromeda breaks free. She is unchained, unbothered, and unleashed. The shackles that once bound her reflect the systems that still seek to contain women, especially Black women, today.
UNCHAIN ANDROMEDA, UNCHAIN YOURSELF
Andromeda was once bound by myths that erased her truth.
Like her, we are often held back by invisible chains.
You are invited to contribute to a growing chain installation
beside Andromeda Unchained.
Here’s how:
Take a link. Use the paper strips provided to create your chain link. Write down what’s held you back.This could be a feeling, a belief, or an external pressure.
This could be a feeling, a belief, or an external pressure.
Examples: Fear and doubt; Self-criticism; The weight of others’ expectations;Grief; Not feeling good enough
Add your link to the chain. Use the small stapler provided to connect your link to the others. Watch as your burden becomes part of something collective, and soon, something we release.
At the end of the exhibition, the entire chain will be ritually destroyed in a symbolic act of liberation, for Andromeda, and for ourselves.
Alpheratz
Sarah Mosseller
Textile installation, paper chain, and participatory artwork
Approximately 94 × 94 cm
2026
Alpheratz
Alex Goodchild // UK
I have divided the poem into two parts like the constellations Alpheratz belongs to.
One side explores what it means to be chained in the western world at this time, the other is about finding magic. The two are interwoven, our chains are made by alienation to our human right of relationship, especially to land.
The practice of relationality is assigned feminine and deemed to lack value. Yet this is how we find magic, through intuitive feeling rather than rationalism. The head and the belly are one. Andromeda’s wisdom and the point of her freedom comes from a gut imagination of a magical flying horse. When consciousness perceives matter it affects the nature of that matter.
When we turn our attention towards the land with our imagination and feel deep within ourselves for the song, we locate ourselves in the web of belonging and bring the magic back.
Alpheratz
Alex Goodchild
Fixed.
The Way
barren.
Fear
White
all is
endless
only this
caught
hard reality
one track in front of me
And so it was good.
The trap begins in our minds
nurtured
nuclear family shake a cocktail of cursed time
nature
carried through the cells and on into those ever rooting binds
seizing this brave new day with your inheritance of loss
soil degrade under serialisation
monoculture lays an infinite track of things all thing and yet slightly
variant
to be put into our mouths and taste gaping holes of a
land,
Mother.
mother and the nestle formula
sorry ma’ excuse the sugar honey culture
a child brought up on
linear paths of the farmer’s field
row after row of sugar beets singing
get an education, told, get a job, eat, get a partner, get married, own,
reproduce
four corners to fix yourself between - don’t picket - let the fence secure
you in
bodies to a unit.
And bless your ability
to be born at the slot machine of first world security
press those buttons for water, heat, dopamine
swaddled in a mass of media pouring in
endless death sentence
slipped through the eyeball of a singular skull
brain rotten
impress of buttocks decayed on the toilet seat
seven of nine planetary boundaries now breached
seven of nine boundaries to survive
in a safe ecosystem
now breached
Flush it
we don’t compost; flush it in the 24 hour news cycle
This is the bind:
our streets were built over sewers after all
cos how can one alone hold all
in our lines and our units
outsourcing grief of belonging to chat gpt
Arms to aid a crisis
How ironic
look at your sister
I said look at your sister
why can’t you see her?
Forgotten
after that horrid fight on the beach
sand spraying out under scuffling feet
But, still,
there are whispers
Here
when the waning afternoon light gets thrown against the wall and dances
do you stop to watch it?
Listen
Heart speaks
Be not afeard: The isle is full of noises
Always here all along
Lips against your tongued spirit
Weaving
Into being your stitch the fabric of time.
We are bound to live
In eachother!
To sing and be sung in turn
For the chains of this world are made out of gaps
Pockets of the void
foot in stretching the flicker of now deepening
vision comes there
in a hum sliding across the ragged stone
bounce back
buried within
back long
ago to the places re-emerge from as shadows confide
open the words and you’ll fly,
waking with premonition encrusted in the eyes
Isn’t none of our lives, none of our fates?
we all watch the climax of a horizon broken
no sacred threshold to keep us sworn now
and we don’t know how to relateFixed.
The Way
barren.
Fear
White
all is
endless
only this
caught
hard reality
one track in front of me
And so it was good.
The trap begins in our minds
nurtured
nuclear family shake a cocktail of cursed time
nature
carried through the cells and on into those ever rooting binds
seizing this brave new day with your inheritance of loss
soil degrade under serialisation
monoculture lays an infinite track of things all thing and yet slightly
variant
to be put into our mouths and taste gaping holes of a
land,
Mother.
mother and the nestle formula
sorry ma’ excuse the sugar honey culture
a child brought up on
linear paths of the farmer’s field
row after row of sugar beets singing
get an education, told, get a job, eat, get a partner, get married, own,
reproduce
four corners to fix yourself between - don’t picket - let the fence secure
you in
bodies to a unit.
And bless your ability
to be born at the slot machine of first world security
press those buttons for water, heat, dopamine
swaddled in a mass of media pouring in
endless death sentence
slipped through the eyeball of a singular skull
brain rotten
impress of buttocks decayed on the toilet seat
seven of nine planetary boundaries now breached
seven of nine boundaries to survive
in a safe ecosystem
now breached
Flush it
we don’t compost; flush it in the 24 hour news cycle
This is the bind:
our streets were built over sewers after all
cos how can one alone hold all
in our lines and our units
outsourcing grief of belonging to chat gpt
Arms to aid a crisis
How ironic
look at your sister
I said look at your sister
why can’t you see her?
Forgotten
after that horrid fight on the beach
sand spraying out under scuffling feet
But, still,
there are whispers
Here
when the waning afternoon light gets thrown against the wall and dances
do you stop to watch it?
Listen
Heart speaks
Be not afeard: The isle is full of noises
Always here all along
Lips against your tongued spirit
Weaving
Into being your stitch the fabric of time.
We are bound to live
In eachother!
To sing and be sung in turn
For the chains of this world are made out of gaps
Pockets of the void
foot in stretching the flicker of now deepening
vision comes there
in a hum sliding across the ragged stone
bounce back
buried within
back long
ago to the places re-emerge from as shadows confide
open the words and you’ll fly,
waking with premonition encrusted in the eyes
Isn’t none of our lives, none of our fates?
we all watch the climax of a horizon broken
no sacred threshold to keep us sworn now
and we don’t know how to relate