Cologne by Dieter Roth (1970)

A city grid fractures into jagged shards. Cologne, 1970, is not a map but a mental snapshot. Black ink bleeds across the paper, pooling in the negative space where streets should be. Roth’s crosshatched lines refuse to settle; they tilt, overlap, dissolve into stippled darkness. The cathedral spire appears twice, once upright, once askew, as if memory itself is unreliable. Hang it above a narrow console where its geometric tension can unsettle the room without shouting.