Olga Grotova's films hook us into the cyclic calm of nuns who look as if they've
stepped out of a Helmut Newton
photo; Nika Neelova turns the topography of a shucked - off exoskeleton hanging below into a coolly folded room
above; Yelena Popova provides both apparently evaporated portraits, as from the deep past, and an empty cut - out awaiting future faces; undeterred
by their lack of tymbals to flex and wings to flick, Neelova and Mira Calix team up to imitate both male and female cicadas in the corridor, crossing sex and species boundaries and referencing the mythical transformation of people into the insects when first introduced to and overpowered
by music.