Een (niet zo)
persoonlijk
dagboek

✒ Bijoy Jain’s showcase “Le souffle de l’architecte” extended on the -1 level. No windows there, nor a particular quality of space, just big plain walls. A collection of smaller scale objects on display, complementing flawlessly the exhibits above. The light was dim, a static ambiance with a thoughtful scenography that featured every piece in an equivalent way, so that nothing would stand out, nor would anything pass unobserved. I lingered around a chair placed in a corner, drawn by its perfectly simple staging. I wove a whole narrative around it, for some reason a Beckett play started unravelling: solitude, fragility, hope, longing. There, in the corner. And this as a contemplation on our ability to control and play with artificial light, the invisible ingredient that we mostly underestimate in our quest for design virtuosity. Focused on perfect shapes and colors we forget that light can do so much with so little. Only a subtle adjustment of intensity and with it a whole range of emotions. Space as a blank page, awaiting for stories to be imprinted and then erased and rewritten, one after another. All in the hands of the storyteller. "Vladimir: Well, shall we go?  Estragon: Yes, let's go.  They do not move.“ (Waiting for Godot – Samuel Beckett) Words & picture by Madalina Anghelescu

✒ Rêverie n.f. Etat de conscience passif (et agréable) dans lequel la pensée se laisse aller. Entière occupation de l’esprit. I recently visited Bijoy Jain's exhibition in Paris, before it closed. It was impeccably curated with a few pieces, including life-sized objects that you could enter, touch, sit on. I arrived, not premeditated, at what seemed to be the perfect time to me: 4pm. So, I got this late afternoon light that put up its own show, doubling or at least substantially elevating the experience. The objects and installations moved with the changing light, casting shadows that stretched following the sun, only to slowly fade out and disappear, restoring the objects they clung to to their original shape, enhancing the materiality and exposing the intricateness of the pieces, brightening up colors and warming up stone chairs. I thought about light, the natural one, beyond our control, with its own moods and rhythms — and how profoundly it influences our perception of space. Had it been a cloudy day, I would have witnessed a different exhibition. So, this as a small ode to natural light and how meaningfully we can co-create with it if we learn to listen to its tempo while embracing its unpredictability. Words & picture by Madalina Anghelescu