In the vitrines lining the Cinéma Paris in Berlin, a series of paintings by Angharad Williams unfolds a variation on the word "Love" in Times New Roman. Paced by progressive zooms, the paintings draw the gaze deeper into this generic, liberal sign, until its legibility becomes unstable. The glyphs disfigure and dissolve into opaque surfaces. Love is gradually pulverised. Williams’ works move within standardised forms of love and language, driven by the search for a secret zone of intensity; as though the cliché might still contain a residue of incantation.