I’m Michael. I’m Inger. And we’re Elmgreen and Dragset. We’re sitting in front of the Nordic Pavilion which is one of the two pavilions that we have been transforming for this year’s Biennale. They have been transformed into two domestic settings, two private homes. There is a family home that is now for sale. Times are tough. And one is not for sale, but the owner is floating in the swimming pool with his face down, while the young men in white T-shirt and faded jeans are hanging out in his estate. They are like kind of guards in the house, but they are just hanging out and looking at all the not-invited guests party-crashing all the time. We also wanted people to be part of the story. Everyone who is coming here sort of becomes performers themselves by interacting with the things they see. You can use the furniture, you can take the texts with you from the writing desk, you can watch the video in the TV room in the Danish pavilion. And people make their own stories, like the last thing I heard was like, the reason for the divorce in the family house that happened quite ungracefully, happened because there was some weird connection between the family father and the mysterious Mr B. So people continue the narrative and make up their own kind of new stories. I guess it’s the first time that your sort of national pavilions are collaborating in this way, and of course this is the new… our spirit in a way as well, to break down these national barriers. Do you know, this is not… it is called a collector’s, but it is, you know, we are trying to put the focus on something else than collecting as sort of investment and showing off, really, and like the collection in the Nordic Pavilion, Mr B’s collection, for instance, is very focused on sexuality and identity and you have the feeling that Mr B probably having lived in a more repressive time, had been interested in supporting gay artists and sort of show the world kind of proudly what he stands for. We wanted to tell two stories. We didn’t want to say anything in general. It’s not a scientific report on collecting; it’s just two stories about two eccentric collectors. I mean the whole rebuilding process is maybe something people know. I mean, we created this fake subway station once in New York. At Victoria Mirror Gallery in London we transformed the gallery into being a gay club. So these, like, lookalike real environments, they are displaced and kind of put into a new context. It is quite our working method in general, I think. It’s not so different from that. Of course it’s different but actually we prefer the term ‘staging’. We are a two-headed monster. After 15 years we were boyfriends for ten years, and… Can’t remember! …we split five years ago, which was quite healthy, because at that point we were really like, we were doing all travels together, we had the same friends, we lived together, we shared our private economy. It was almost like having a drugstore somewhere in Shoreditch and being an elderly couple and saying like, ‘Oh, honey, do you go down and open this morning, and I make the coffee,’ you know. It was absurd really. We didn’t even have each our own email, so we didn’t even have our own underwear.