The Hall

Mirrors refract the illusion of time, stretching between the past and the present. The hall, locked away for ten years, suddenly appears before us like a film in fast replay, only to disappear again quickly. We drift vaguely through the noise of the past, while what we face now is the dispersal of memory.

The hall moves towards the end of its life carrying the ashes of a Chinese collective way of living. Perhaps a dramatic beginning is the most fitting way to face a future for which we, too, have no answer.

How we say goodbye to memory also means how the future begins.