Tamis
Misat hides and makes itself wanted.

Having
crossed the front door, we find ourselves in a domestic space. In
order to truly enter the exhibition, we must first find the curtain
of pearls, approach it and go through it. This compulsory gateway to
the show is at once a sculpture and a frontier.

It
is only then, at that precise moment, that Tamis Misat is unveiled.

Like
a warning, a fluorescent yellow light radiates throughout the alcove,
its mystical aura enveloping the surrounding sculptures hanging on
the walls. At times scintillating and at times mate, rough or
shining, the works look like “something”… but what? These
abstract forms, strange ghosts of everyday objects, remind us of the
space we’re occupying and of its function. They remain, however,
unrecognizable. Maybe it is because of what they are made of. Maybe
it is the odd yellow light bouncing off from their surfaces. Pauline
Cordier is playing with us, challenging our perception. She is
showing us what a surface could be. We are forced to pull the strands
of our imagination in order to seize the interdependence at work in
her installation. Once we have examined the light, decrypted the
forms and understood the materials, then, at last, have we
experienced Tamis Misat. It is only then that the show is over. The
sensory experienced has ended.

Not
without exiting the time capsule. Not without crossing the pearls
suspended in the air one last time.

Eleonora
Del Duca