Also on view @lago_algo Salvation, 2021 One of Joep van Lieshout’s earliest sculptures, conceived in 1983, is an goperating table that doubles as a chopping block with drains to recycle body fluids and concealed stilettos to cut the patient’s vertebra if necessary. Life saving easily turns into torture and execution. Our faith in the agents of rational science is questioned, as is the value of human life itself. A couple of Ebola outbreaks, the HIV crisis and a Covid-19 pandemic later, and Atelier Vang Lieshout’s Salvation spells out a not so different future. Doctors are crusaders, priests and shamans all rolled into one: part healer, part executioner. Nurses provide care and sexually charged consolation. Telephone Guy,2021 The Dutch aren’t big on flying the flag. Some feel the national tricolour has been claimed by the right-wing, for others it brings to mind a colonial past that doesn’t inspire pride. Hence the burn marks on the flag behind Telephone Guy, a rag unceremoniously tied to an undersized flagpole. He is also hauling an outdated telephone in a pretty but useless velvet sleeve and wearing a gasmask that won’t improve the quality of his communications. His shamanistic outfit underlines the symbolic, irrational nature of all messaging; closer to a spirit whisperer than a modern day logistics officer. Telephone Guy is a giant on clay feet, bogged down in the national identity debate. Descent from the Cross,2020 The deposition of Christ has been a popular theme in art since the 9th century. So much so that it has become an archetype, symbolising sorrow, regret and grief. Typically, the dead body of Christ is supported by the virgin Mary and Mary Magdalene, who lower him to the ground. In Atelier Van Lieshout’s version the cross is mounted on a frame, lifting it off the ground as if it is controlled by a puppet master in the sky. The mourners attempt to counteract this force, but seem to realise they have lost their loved one to a higher force. Destiny,2021