The principal element of this installation by Philippe Parreno is a one-minute film, shot in 2001 on a small Norwegian island, near the North Pole. Each screening is unique, owing to software that allows a new montage of the film’s twelve shots to be presented. Given that there are more than four hundred millions possible combinations, we can affirm that no two identical versions will exist. The system is very simple : in a room as white as a museum wall, a white screen is detached from the wall, allowing the projection to float in space, but also isolating this projection surface in a way that is reminiscent of a white monochrome. An eight-minute interval between each screening creates strong tension for the audience, who do not know what to expect. The brevity of the sequence, which appears brusquely and without a title or credits, counters the long wait. The brightly lit room is suddenly brutally plunged into darkness. Set to a piece of dramatic music by Edgar Varese, we see a sudden blooming of flowers, views over a fjord bathed in sunlight, animals' tracks in the sand or the shadow of a bird flying over vegetation. Each short sequence has been very carefully produced, both in terms of the lighting and meticulous framing. The sudden return of the very stark lighting of the room the moment the last shot ends provokes a blinding sensation. This rupture interrupts the act of contemplation ; bring the spectator back to the reality of the museum and lending a strange status to these images, as though they were a vision – provoking a feeling of unreality at the memory of this idyllic landscape. The constant renewal of this "dream of a thing" [1] creates this troubling feeling of an element that we think we know, but that is imperceptibly disjointed from one screening to the next, leaving only a fleeting impression in our memories.

[1] English translation of the title.

Patricia Maincent

Translated by Anna Knight