The place of no place, somewhere along an endless motorway. For the Spreitenbachler, it represents the world beyond the train tracks, where you put the things you don’t really want to exhibit, hidden in plain sight. They cross through, lured in by these romanticised everyday sins, discreetly popping in for a game or two. Part highway stop, part Las Vegas high street, it is a guilty, lustful pleasure.
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The place of no place, somewhere along an endless motorway. For the Spreitenbachler, it represents the world beyond the train tracks, where you put the things you don’t really want to exhibit, hidden in plain sight. They cross through, lured in by these romanticised everyday sins, discreetly popping in for a game or two. Part highway stop, part Las Vegas high street, it is a guilty, lustful pleasure.
