Seventeen Grams of Longing explores the artistic legacies of two brothers, discovered on different continents, through the unfolding of an exhibition in Berlin at PSM Gallery which took place in March 2024, and now at two locations in Toronto: at Daniel Faria Gallery and in a garage* in the west end of the city, accessed via a map and code provided by the gallery.

The twins Kurt and (K)Carl Pfister were born in Augsburg, Germany during the Second World War. They were separated as small children after their father died in the war, and their mother—remarried to an American soldier—moved to the United States, leaving Kurt to be raised in Berlin by her in-laws, his grandparents. Carl, whose name was changed from the German spelling to the American upon emigration, was raised in Detroit and then later relocated to Toronto, Canada. Unaware of the others’ existence, Kurt and Carl grew up with an unspoken longing and intangible absence. Both became fascinated by the fragile lives of migratory birds, a fascination that was made manifest as physical objects, each twin with their own creative pursuits. This shared deep interest, as well the shared desire to express that interest through an artistic lens, broaches the age-old question of how much we are determined by nature and how much by our experiences?

Kurt collected ornithology books, which he read with careful attention and also deconstructed, cutting out every illustration that depicted a bird. While more and more bird-shaped gaps and holes appeared in the books, the resulting cut-outs became intricate and delicate mobiles. His studio, a vacant room in the basement of a house at Schöneberger Ufer 61 in Berlin, Germany, was filled with books and cassette tapes of bird songs. Underneath a sheet of hand-painted canvas attached to the ceiling, hung hundreds of cut-out birds, each painstakingly catalogued with the page number and title of the book from which it came. Fluttering above an old armchair, these simple cut-outs transformed the tiny basement into a space both mysterious and boundless.

Carl, who installed windows for a living, was so moved by the tragic imprints of birds’ wings left behind from their collisions with the glass that he would trace them onto carbon paper and transform the patterns into glass engravings. In his former workshop, discovered in a garage in the west end of Toronto, we find those engraved panes of glass and mirrors leaning against every surface. They not only picture the tracings of birds’ wings, but also recreate studied maps and migration routes, overlapping and interlacing with one another. Ornithology books, world atlases, maps and photos clutter the space amongst tools and personal detritus. It is within Carl’s workshop that Häussler has set up a temporary studio, diving into the twins’ histories, and doing her own research into the migrations and lives of songbirds.

In her creative process, Häussler steps into the magical thinking and dreaming of her fictional figures, “one could say I am the author and the character at the same time,” she writes. Propelled by her own biography, and the silence and suppressed emotions of her parents’ generation after WW2 in Germany, Häussler traces the concept of transgenerational trauma not only in the series of works by Kurt and Carl, but in her entire oeuvre through the creation of fictional artists and their works.

Visitors to the gallery also have the chance to visit Carl’s workspace and Häussler’s research studio within the space. This offsite installation is located at 766 Sandra Shamas Lane, between Bloor and Barton, and between Shaw and Crawford. It is accessible during gallery hours, via a map and code provided in person at the gallery, or by emailing madeleine@danielfariagallery.com or calling 416 538 1880.