Bread is a staple food. Most people find it very difficult to throw away stale bread. There is a moral threshold. Nevertheless, we simply have too much bread. In the river in front of my atelier, I watch stale bread by the kilo float by every day. It is a powerful image reflecting our lifestyle. On the one hand, we have too much of it; on the other hand, we attempt, rather feebly, to steer clear of unethical behaviour.
I have collected stale bread for years and have now built towers with it. Towers, like those children make with building blocks. Playing with bread, is that permitted? What are you really playing with?
Building towers also means dealing with fundamental structural problems. With astonishing accuracy, the eye detects how stabile the matter actually is. It remains precarious; precarious “bread-for-thought” buildings.