The film installation "Pirate Spaces" frisks the empty spaces of an imaginary city. The spaces seem to be connected to a web not recorded on a map. The Pirate Rooms are places promising possibilities, gaps, vessels of ideas, centres of storms. The rooms appear light and calm, even though the camera scans through them impatiently. The film projector is reeling back and forth, slowing down, stopping, as if an invisible operator is examining the material in a search for something. It is made manifest as a sound inquiry of a process, perhaps the indecisive eye of an editor, not being able to make up her/his mind about how to assemble the material under investigation. Again and again, prints of the ground set between the camera and the motif: there are awkward beings, mathematical codes appearing and disappearing in odd ways, and hindering the inquiry, but at the same time delivering new hints. The rewinding and forwarding of the projector produces combinatorial results, details become visible and the coherence of the depicted emerges. Nothing in the rooms is functioning right: doors close by themselves, others are doubled, passageways lead to nowhere, elsewhere an exit opens in the ground, the window leading outside reflects the room itself. Ghosts of emerging formulas of ground plans haunt an irrational architecture. It is no misleading image or any lunatic labyrinth, just places holding their own fantasies. The specifically constructed 35mm projector is conducted by a barcode attached to the film; the film material itself describes the ground plan as a visible sculpture in the exhibition space.