Since 2025, Adam Man has been engaging with the Pasterze, until recently the largest glacier in the Eastern Alps. It lies at the foot of the Großglockner, Austria's highest mountain. The glacier is prominent: easily accessible via the Großglockner High Alpine Road, one of Europe's most famous panoramic roads. Like glaciers worldwide, the Pasterze is melting dramatically, and its characteristic tongue will have disappeared by 2050.

The Franz-Josefs-Höhe is the point at 2,369 meters where the road ends and the view of the dying glacier begins. Built in the 1930s under the dictatorship of Austrofascism as a monument to technology — a symbol of capability without regard for losses — the road today reveals, in an explicitly tragic way, the consequences of an unconditional belief in progress. Arriving at its highest point, visitors stand on one of countless viewing platforms and watch the disappearance of the supposedly eternal, in the presence of the high mountains' majesty.

The tragedy lies in the withdrawal of what technology once made accessible. What is ambivalent is the inescapability of the view onto loss that the Franz-Josefs-Höhe, as a viewing apparatus, sets up: since everything here is panorama, the dying of the glacier is put on display somewhere between voyeurism and denial.

In his multi-channel video work Adam exposes the viewing apparatus of the Franz-Josefs-Höhe that trains the gaze, and shifts looking away from the enforced panorama toward proximity and mourning. This happens in a video twin that separates image from language, creating space both for moments of speechlessness and for imaginings beyond the force of images.

Where the images withdraw like the glacier, an incidental silence appears; and where language lets itself be washed away like the meltwater of the vanished ice, the geometric rawness of the end times emerges.