Considerations and Ants explores the uneasy architecture of shelter: the distance between being held and being trapped, protection and exposure, the domestic interior and everything pressing against it.

Throughout the exhibition, Justin Ginsberg makes familiar objects behave strangely. Thousands of pulled glass strands emerge from a found chair, tracing a body rising and returning to rest. A bed spring bears glass vessels containing water equal to the artist’s bodily water weight, slowly releasing its load as the water evaporates. Chicken wire, pleated like curtains and studded with glass droplets, becomes a barrier incapable of keeping the elements out. Elsewhere, a medicinal and poisonous plant sits inside a safety-glass cage beside a bucket of honey.

The exhibition’s title comes from Betraktninger og Anfektelser, a 1932 book by Norwegian writer Johan Borgen, writing as Mumle Gåsegg. Google Translate rendered anfektelser—closer to “scruples” or “misgivings”—as “ants.” Ginsberg kept the error, retyping the entire mistranslated book by hand until its mistakes became accidental poetry. The worn original and transcription sit together beneath glass.

Nearby, “you are here” is stamped repeatedly until the ink gives out. Bodies rise and settle, water disappears, language slips, boundaries fail. Even “you are here” becomes less certain each time it is repeated. The gallery walls match the book’s cover exactly, as if the viewer has stepped inside a mistranslated poem.