Large, triangular wooden blocks are lined up on the floor – all of them raw, with an open, porous wood structure; some even bear cracks from hasty indoor drying. Tina Astrup has carefully taken them in hand to underline their tactile qualities: one side is smoothly planed almost to a gloss, while another remains rough and dark-brown from its time in the forest. The blocks have similar dimensions to those of seats, but they are free-standing sculptures.

By wrapping metal thread around the wood and pouring vinegar over it, Tina Astrup draws either fuzzy or crisp lines in the wood, using a chemical reaction. In some works, the colour covers the entire surface; with these variations, she creates compositions in a play between large and small – and dark and light.

The colour stems from the wood itself, as if it held a hidden chamber of ink, teased out by the metal. How much the wood blackens depends on several factors, including how tightly the metal fits around the wood, and how long the wood is exposed to the vinegar. These choices do not always produce predictable results, and it is precisely this interplay with chance that piques Tina Astrup’s curiosity.