The door, marked by a dangling metal ram’s head leads into a small cylindrical foyer that stretches skyward like the buttresses of a cathedral, or a miniature Neo-classical version of The Guggenheim. But neither the piety of religion nor the purity of modern art are quite comfortable in these halls. On the fabric covered walls, a 19th century equestrian print depicts a rider and horse, as shown from behind. The clang of dishes on a rolling cart echoes down a carpeted corridor; a sort of dinner bell for introverted guests who prefer to take their meals lying supine. At the bar downstairs, an elderly woman’s hand moulds easily to the shape of a champagne saucer. No one wants to be brought back down to life, when one is thinking it is art.

The Room Service Box is a sturdy box constructed for storing day-to-day items in a discrete and disguised manner. It is fabricated out of glossed photographic paper on its exterior, and lined with printed matte paper on its interior. The Glass House studio uses these boxes to store collage cut-outs, drawings, photographs, trims, saved letters, and papers one knows they need to deal with, but prefers to temporarily ignore.