I have featured London's Royal College of Art's Rafael Sommerhalder here before. From Flowerpots to today's Wolves. Set in that urban wilderness, the English capital's underground network, there are howls galore, albeit quite different to those I emit when squashed into that fiendish commuter hellhole if one attempts to travel in the rush hour, more packed than pack. But typically I digress. In its way, Wolves is a love story, a sort of casual encounter where inextricably two strangers are drawn to each other. Sound effects and minimalist monochrome artwork comprise this piece. Wolves are in fashion as any bookshop browsing will testify. No vampires or werewolves here however, well ... not obviously. Instead there's a most enigmatic movie in which Rafael lets the tempo simmer at stalking pace rather than dash full tilt for the kill. Oh, I'm misleading you. The howl of a wolf is a piecing noise all right. I have met some odd folk on the Tube. Seen some odd things. Not like this though. And our man, by way of continuity, holds a flowerpot for most of the time.