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