A moment ago, I was standing in front of the main station, surrounded by passers-by. Now I'm standing in the shell of an empty shop. Elements that are usually hidden catch my attention: floor panels and building technology, the ventilation pipes and cable ducts, the rails and profiles that hold everything in place. The room is clean and deserted. Everything is familiar and yet feels artificial. A cozy eeriness sets in.
Some of the floor panels have been removed, revealing the structure that supports the floor. Although the floor is only raised a few centimetres above this, I feel uneasy. Will the ground hold? I take tentative steps towards the trench, and realise that everything is stable after all.
Further back in the room, warmly lit in contrast to the neon tubes, is a changing room. Here too I approach cautiously. The cubicle is empty, and so I enter. As in a store you can close the curtains behind yourself. I do so, and so I stand in a room within a room, alone with two versions of myself. The mirrored surfaces of the changing room cast blurred reflections. My own physicality becomes uncomfortably tangible. I think about how you normally slip into different clothes in changing rooms. What do you look for when trying on clothes? Rarely do you need more clothes. You are probably looking for new feelings. But what feelings can you find in the changing rooms of a global fashion chain whose shops look the same all over the world?
I look at the exhibition text and description of the works: Tester, 'Replica of a fitting room from the ZARA store on Bahnhofstrasse Zurich'. The second part is a little harder to find. With help of the floor plan I comb the room and finally discover a black spot on the floor. What at first looks like a dead bird, or traces of a spill, is the silhouette of the janitor’s keys. I marvel at the number of keys and imagine which rooms they might all open.
I let my gaze wander through the shop once again, turn around and stand in front of the large shop window, which offers a view of a moving landscape. A tram goes past, passers-by carry shopping bags through the frame. A few meters further on, Bahnhofstrasse begins. With hundreds of shops like this one. What if they were all empty? What could we do with the spaces? Tester is an experience right next to Bahnhofstrasse and a reflection on the infrastructure of consumption.
Sophie Nadler and Etienne Eisele, Tester, Bahnhofplatz 2, Zürich, 21 June–6 July 2024