While some artists embrace the postmodern explosion of multimedia installations and genre-defying aesthetics, others choose to head down a more retrolicious path, dredging their mother’s prints from musty drawers to relive the flowerchild fashion of the sixties.

Hamlet is literature’s greatest coward to kill a man. His overwrought moral scrupulousness overcomes his impetus for revenge, causing vacillation and irresolution. Hamlet, however, is not entirely original, and, in fact, has a literary ancestor: Amleth, the Scandinavian revenge-tale chronicled by Saxo Grammaticus.

It’s the Matrix, way before the Wachowski brothers; it’s Plato’s cave; it’s Descartes’ evil demon all over again. Their memories can’t be trusted, and neither can their senses.