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303 Gallery is pleased to present Zone, Dominique Gonzalez-Foerster’s (@okigonster) second solo exhibition with the gallery, comprised of the eponymous sound environment and the film Meteorium III.🌹 opening Friday, March 20, reception 6-8pm.

What is Zone the name of? Free, occupied, or flooded? Exterior or interior? Could it be a New York City transplant of La Zone de Paris—that improvised non aedificandi strip of 19th century land on the margins of the City of Light, inhabited by anarchists, refugees, sex workers and gleaners once known as Zoniers? Or am I going to be transported inside Apollinaire’s poem “Zone” (1913), poised before recurring collapse, amid unending entropy?

From period rooms (euqinimod & costumes, 303 Gallery, 2014) to city parks (Ballard Garden, Antwerp, 2014), via immersive environments, such as Cosmodrome (2001), Chronotopes & Dioramas (DIA Art Foundation, 2010) and Alienarium 5 (Serpentine, 2022), and monumental scenarios from TH.2058 (Tate, 2008) to PISTARAMA (Pinacoteca Agnelli, 2023), Dominique Gonzalez-Foerster extends to the potentialities of exhibition the very characteristics of the heterotopia, that Michel Foucault identified in schools, psychiatric institutions, prisons, cemeteries, theatres and brothels, by being “the smallest parcel of the world and then the whole world”. Gonzalez-Foerster’s works are worlds unto themselves, as open and abstract as that of expanded literature, whose stakes are as much temporal as spatial, and which lean, simultaneously and alternately, toward utopia and dystopia in their coexisting tension. The exhibition is an exploration of the potential of space (room, gallery, museum, city, environment), and a critical investigation of modernity, from its starting point in the splendid World’s fairs of the 19th century to its anticipation in speculative literature that scenarios the climatic catastrophes of the Anthropocene and its desert or tropical mutations… Swipe to read the full text by @___tristan__b____
—
Clip and film still, Dominique Gonzalez-Foerster, Meteorium III, 2026.

303 Gallery is pleased to present Zone, Dominique Gonzalez-Foerster’s (@okigonster) second solo exhibition with the gallery, comprised of the eponymous sound environment and the film Meteorium III.🌹 opening Friday, March 20, reception 6-8pm.

What is Zone the name of? Free, occupied, or flooded? Exterior or interior? Could it be a New York City transplant of La Zone de Paris—that improvised non aedificandi strip of 19th century land on the margins of the City of Light, inhabited by anarchists, refugees, sex workers and gleaners once known as Zoniers? Or am I going to be transported inside Apollinaire’s poem “Zone” (1913), poised before recurring collapse, amid unending entropy?

From period rooms (euqinimod & costumes, 303 Gallery, 2014) to city parks (Ballard Garden, Antwerp, 2014), via immersive environments, such as Cosmodrome (2001), Chronotopes & Dioramas (DIA Art Foundation, 2010) and Alienarium 5 (Serpentine, 2022), and monumental scenarios from TH.2058 (Tate, 2008) to PISTARAMA (Pinacoteca Agnelli, 2023), Dominique Gonzalez-Foerster extends to the potentialities of exhibition the very characteristics of the heterotopia, that Michel Foucault identified in schools, psychiatric institutions, prisons, cemeteries, theatres and brothels, by being “the smallest parcel of the world and then the whole world”. Gonzalez-Foerster’s works are worlds unto themselves, as open and abstract as that of expanded literature, whose stakes are as much temporal as spatial, and which lean, simultaneously and alternately, toward utopia and dystopia in their coexisting tension. The exhibition is an exploration of the potential of space (room, gallery, museum, city, environment), and a critical investigation of modernity, from its starting point in the splendid World’s fairs of the 19th century to its anticipation in speculative literature that scenarios the climatic catastrophes of the Anthropocene and its desert or tropical mutations… Swipe to read the full text by @___tristan__b____
—
Clip and film still, Dominique Gonzalez-Foerster, Meteorium III, 2026.

303 Gallery is pleased to present Zone, Dominique Gonzalez-Foerster’s (@okigonster) second solo exhibition with the gallery, comprised of the eponymous sound environment and the film Meteorium III.🌹 opening Friday, March 20, reception 6-8pm.

What is Zone the name of? Free, occupied, or flooded? Exterior or interior? Could it be a New York City transplant of La Zone de Paris—that improvised non aedificandi strip of 19th century land on the margins of the City of Light, inhabited by anarchists, refugees, sex workers and gleaners once known as Zoniers? Or am I going to be transported inside Apollinaire’s poem “Zone” (1913), poised before recurring collapse, amid unending entropy?

From period rooms (euqinimod & costumes, 303 Gallery, 2014) to city parks (Ballard Garden, Antwerp, 2014), via immersive environments, such as Cosmodrome (2001), Chronotopes & Dioramas (DIA Art Foundation, 2010) and Alienarium 5 (Serpentine, 2022), and monumental scenarios from TH.2058 (Tate, 2008) to PISTARAMA (Pinacoteca Agnelli, 2023), Dominique Gonzalez-Foerster extends to the potentialities of exhibition the very characteristics of the heterotopia, that Michel Foucault identified in schools, psychiatric institutions, prisons, cemeteries, theatres and brothels, by being “the smallest parcel of the world and then the whole world”. Gonzalez-Foerster’s works are worlds unto themselves, as open and abstract as that of expanded literature, whose stakes are as much temporal as spatial, and which lean, simultaneously and alternately, toward utopia and dystopia in their coexisting tension. The exhibition is an exploration of the potential of space (room, gallery, museum, city, environment), and a critical investigation of modernity, from its starting point in the splendid World’s fairs of the 19th century to its anticipation in speculative literature that scenarios the climatic catastrophes of the Anthropocene and its desert or tropical mutations… Swipe to read the full text by @___tristan__b____
—
Clip and film still, Dominique Gonzalez-Foerster, Meteorium III, 2026.

303 Gallery is pleased to present Zone, Dominique Gonzalez-Foerster’s (@okigonster) second solo exhibition with the gallery, comprised of the eponymous sound environment and the film Meteorium III.🌹 opening Friday, March 20, reception 6-8pm.

What is Zone the name of? Free, occupied, or flooded? Exterior or interior? Could it be a New York City transplant of La Zone de Paris—that improvised non aedificandi strip of 19th century land on the margins of the City of Light, inhabited by anarchists, refugees, sex workers and gleaners once known as Zoniers? Or am I going to be transported inside Apollinaire’s poem “Zone” (1913), poised before recurring collapse, amid unending entropy?

From period rooms (euqinimod & costumes, 303 Gallery, 2014) to city parks (Ballard Garden, Antwerp, 2014), via immersive environments, such as Cosmodrome (2001), Chronotopes & Dioramas (DIA Art Foundation, 2010) and Alienarium 5 (Serpentine, 2022), and monumental scenarios from TH.2058 (Tate, 2008) to PISTARAMA (Pinacoteca Agnelli, 2023), Dominique Gonzalez-Foerster extends to the potentialities of exhibition the very characteristics of the heterotopia, that Michel Foucault identified in schools, psychiatric institutions, prisons, cemeteries, theatres and brothels, by being “the smallest parcel of the world and then the whole world”. Gonzalez-Foerster’s works are worlds unto themselves, as open and abstract as that of expanded literature, whose stakes are as much temporal as spatial, and which lean, simultaneously and alternately, toward utopia and dystopia in their coexisting tension. The exhibition is an exploration of the potential of space (room, gallery, museum, city, environment), and a critical investigation of modernity, from its starting point in the splendid World’s fairs of the 19th century to its anticipation in speculative literature that scenarios the climatic catastrophes of the Anthropocene and its desert or tropical mutations… Swipe to read the full text by @___tristan__b____
—
Clip and film still, Dominique Gonzalez-Foerster, Meteorium III, 2026.

303 Gallery is pleased to present Zone, Dominique Gonzalez-Foerster’s (@okigonster) second solo exhibition with the gallery, comprised of the eponymous sound environment and the film Meteorium III.🌹 opening Friday, March 20, reception 6-8pm.

What is Zone the name of? Free, occupied, or flooded? Exterior or interior? Could it be a New York City transplant of La Zone de Paris—that improvised non aedificandi strip of 19th century land on the margins of the City of Light, inhabited by anarchists, refugees, sex workers and gleaners once known as Zoniers? Or am I going to be transported inside Apollinaire’s poem “Zone” (1913), poised before recurring collapse, amid unending entropy?

From period rooms (euqinimod & costumes, 303 Gallery, 2014) to city parks (Ballard Garden, Antwerp, 2014), via immersive environments, such as Cosmodrome (2001), Chronotopes & Dioramas (DIA Art Foundation, 2010) and Alienarium 5 (Serpentine, 2022), and monumental scenarios from TH.2058 (Tate, 2008) to PISTARAMA (Pinacoteca Agnelli, 2023), Dominique Gonzalez-Foerster extends to the potentialities of exhibition the very characteristics of the heterotopia, that Michel Foucault identified in schools, psychiatric institutions, prisons, cemeteries, theatres and brothels, by being “the smallest parcel of the world and then the whole world”. Gonzalez-Foerster’s works are worlds unto themselves, as open and abstract as that of expanded literature, whose stakes are as much temporal as spatial, and which lean, simultaneously and alternately, toward utopia and dystopia in their coexisting tension. The exhibition is an exploration of the potential of space (room, gallery, museum, city, environment), and a critical investigation of modernity, from its starting point in the splendid World’s fairs of the 19th century to its anticipation in speculative literature that scenarios the climatic catastrophes of the Anthropocene and its desert or tropical mutations… Swipe to read the full text by @___tristan__b____
—
Clip and film still, Dominique Gonzalez-Foerster, Meteorium III, 2026.

303 Gallery is pleased to present Zone, Dominique Gonzalez-Foerster’s (@okigonster) second solo exhibition with the gallery, comprised of the eponymous sound environment and the film Meteorium III.🌹 opening Friday, March 20, reception 6-8pm.

What is Zone the name of? Free, occupied, or flooded? Exterior or interior? Could it be a New York City transplant of La Zone de Paris—that improvised non aedificandi strip of 19th century land on the margins of the City of Light, inhabited by anarchists, refugees, sex workers and gleaners once known as Zoniers? Or am I going to be transported inside Apollinaire’s poem “Zone” (1913), poised before recurring collapse, amid unending entropy?

From period rooms (euqinimod & costumes, 303 Gallery, 2014) to city parks (Ballard Garden, Antwerp, 2014), via immersive environments, such as Cosmodrome (2001), Chronotopes & Dioramas (DIA Art Foundation, 2010) and Alienarium 5 (Serpentine, 2022), and monumental scenarios from TH.2058 (Tate, 2008) to PISTARAMA (Pinacoteca Agnelli, 2023), Dominique Gonzalez-Foerster extends to the potentialities of exhibition the very characteristics of the heterotopia, that Michel Foucault identified in schools, psychiatric institutions, prisons, cemeteries, theatres and brothels, by being “the smallest parcel of the world and then the whole world”. Gonzalez-Foerster’s works are worlds unto themselves, as open and abstract as that of expanded literature, whose stakes are as much temporal as spatial, and which lean, simultaneously and alternately, toward utopia and dystopia in their coexisting tension. The exhibition is an exploration of the potential of space (room, gallery, museum, city, environment), and a critical investigation of modernity, from its starting point in the splendid World’s fairs of the 19th century to its anticipation in speculative literature that scenarios the climatic catastrophes of the Anthropocene and its desert or tropical mutations… Swipe to read the full text by @___tristan__b____
—
Clip and film still, Dominique Gonzalez-Foerster, Meteorium III, 2026.

#alienarium5 #neon #alienarium #neither #serpentinegallery #johnmorganstudio #dominiquegonzalezfoerster #exotourisme @neither.biz @corvimora @johnmorganstudio

#alienarium5 #neon #alienarium #neither #serpentinegallery #johnmorganstudio #dominiquegonzalezfoerster #exotourisme @neither.biz @corvimora @johnmorganstudio

We are delighted to announce our first-time participation at @frieze.london, where we will take part with a presentation by gallery artists inspired by and assembled around the new carpet by Dominique González-Foerster (@okigonster) “Alienarium (with John Morgan) (tapis de lecture)”.

Visit our booth B35 from 15-19 October, featuring artists Cristina Lucas, Iván Argote, Jose Dávila, Marco A. Castillo, Claudia Comte, Adrien Vescovi, SUPERFLEX, Koo Jeong A and Dominique González-Foerster.

_

Nos complace anunciar nuestra primera participación en @frieze.london, con una presentación de artistas de la galería inspirada y articulada en torno a la nueva alfombra de Dominique González-Foerster (@okigonster) “Alienarium (with John Morgan) (tapis de lecture)”.

Visita nuestro stand B35 del 15 al 19 de octubre, con obras de Cristina Lucas, Iván Argote, José Dávila, Marco A. Castillo, Claudia Comte, Adrien Vescovi, SUPERFLEX, Koo Jeong A y Dominique González-Foerster.

@friezeofficial

#meteorium
Colors anchor each room, making meteorology inseparable from chromatics. Red recalls not only lava but the frescoes of Pompeii, buried under volcanic ash. White is snow’s silence as seen in South Korea during winter, but also the possibility of beginning again. Grey clouds recall industrial skies, the tormented melancholy of William Turner’s tempests or Parisian comforting dull skies. Ochre dust echoes cave paintings where prehistoric artists recorded animals beneath a sky of particles. Pink and green petals resound with Mangueira’s samba, but also with the ambivalence of festivity in a collapsing climate. And blue hovers as Felix Gonzalez-Torres’s color of untitled mourning, the light blue of the curtains, into which the wind rushes, or paper stacks or candy spills, atmosphere transfigured into loss. Purple, too—the ancient dye extracted at such cost, associated with twilight skies, with the coat of some Roman emperors, with the atmosphere itself—lingers as a latent tonality, the very hue of the meteorological imagination. Painter Claude Monet, while making his Water Lilies series over thirty years, would have exclaimed: “I've finally discovered the true color of the atmosphere. It's violet. Fresh air is purple.” #textbytristanbera #dominiquegonzalezfoerster @pinacotecasp @volzjochen @ise.claudio

#meteorium
Colors anchor each room, making meteorology inseparable from chromatics. Red recalls not only lava but the frescoes of Pompeii, buried under volcanic ash. White is snow’s silence as seen in South Korea during winter, but also the possibility of beginning again. Grey clouds recall industrial skies, the tormented melancholy of William Turner’s tempests or Parisian comforting dull skies. Ochre dust echoes cave paintings where prehistoric artists recorded animals beneath a sky of particles. Pink and green petals resound with Mangueira’s samba, but also with the ambivalence of festivity in a collapsing climate. And blue hovers as Felix Gonzalez-Torres’s color of untitled mourning, the light blue of the curtains, into which the wind rushes, or paper stacks or candy spills, atmosphere transfigured into loss. Purple, too—the ancient dye extracted at such cost, associated with twilight skies, with the coat of some Roman emperors, with the atmosphere itself—lingers as a latent tonality, the very hue of the meteorological imagination. Painter Claude Monet, while making his Water Lilies series over thirty years, would have exclaimed: “I've finally discovered the true color of the atmosphere. It's violet. Fresh air is purple.” #textbytristanbera #dominiquegonzalezfoerster @pinacotecasp @volzjochen @ise.claudio

#meteorium
Colors anchor each room, making meteorology inseparable from chromatics. Red recalls not only lava but the frescoes of Pompeii, buried under volcanic ash. White is snow’s silence as seen in South Korea during winter, but also the possibility of beginning again. Grey clouds recall industrial skies, the tormented melancholy of William Turner’s tempests or Parisian comforting dull skies. Ochre dust echoes cave paintings where prehistoric artists recorded animals beneath a sky of particles. Pink and green petals resound with Mangueira’s samba, but also with the ambivalence of festivity in a collapsing climate. And blue hovers as Felix Gonzalez-Torres’s color of untitled mourning, the light blue of the curtains, into which the wind rushes, or paper stacks or candy spills, atmosphere transfigured into loss. Purple, too—the ancient dye extracted at such cost, associated with twilight skies, with the coat of some Roman emperors, with the atmosphere itself—lingers as a latent tonality, the very hue of the meteorological imagination. Painter Claude Monet, while making his Water Lilies series over thirty years, would have exclaimed: “I've finally discovered the true color of the atmosphere. It's violet. Fresh air is purple.” #textbytristanbera #dominiquegonzalezfoerster @pinacotecasp @volzjochen @ise.claudio

#meteorium "There are houses that close themselves like fists, opaque boxes or bunkers designed to shut out the chaos of the sky, and there are houses that, on the contrary, breathe with the seasons, that vibrate with every storm and every dawn like in a recurring dream. DGF’s Meteorium, unveiled at #PinacotecadeSãoPaulo’s Octógono, belongs to the second magic kind: not a shelter from weather, but an instrument or an invention for perceiving its variations, an observatory of sensations as much as of clouds, a barometer dragged as an architectural folly.(…) Here—and this is the extra layer of inexplicable magic—, the octagon mutates into a carousel, a rotation of climates. Eight rooms unfold like the eight winds of antiquity, each one staging a distinct meteorological state: rain, snow, lava, cloud, wind, mud, dust, and petals. Together, they form not only an experiential cycle but a philosophy of the atmospheric, where feelings and weather merge into abstract painting.(...) Each room is an extimate organ, an emotional state displaced into architecture and abstract painting. Rain is not “mine,” but surrounds me; lava burns in the world but ignites within; petals fall from elsewhere yet touch the core of memory. The Meteorium reveals that consciousness is meteorological: interiority is shaped by storms, moods are forms of weather.(…)Climate disasters punctuate our times like Carnival’s drumbeats: Amazonian fires reddening the sky, polar ice collapsing like a fragile Gothic cathedral, hurricanes that erase entire towns, pandemics whose vectors are meteorological as much as biological. The Meteorium does not hide from these catastrophes; it models or stages them in miniature, as weather reports of the soul.(…)The octagon becomes less a geometry of resistance than of exposure: eight faces turned toward a horizon that is itself unstable. But exposure is not despair.(…) For the Meteorium is not a bunker but a folly, a borderless kiosk where seriousness and play coincide, where the Agora returns as a meteorological salon. One enters not to escape but to participate in a carousel ride, to let one’s own moods be refracted by clouds, by gusts, by lights." #tristanbera

#meteorium "There are houses that close themselves like fists, opaque boxes or bunkers designed to shut out the chaos of the sky, and there are houses that, on the contrary, breathe with the seasons, that vibrate with every storm and every dawn like in a recurring dream. DGF’s Meteorium, unveiled at #PinacotecadeSãoPaulo’s Octógono, belongs to the second magic kind: not a shelter from weather, but an instrument or an invention for perceiving its variations, an observatory of sensations as much as of clouds, a barometer dragged as an architectural folly.(…) Here—and this is the extra layer of inexplicable magic—, the octagon mutates into a carousel, a rotation of climates. Eight rooms unfold like the eight winds of antiquity, each one staging a distinct meteorological state: rain, snow, lava, cloud, wind, mud, dust, and petals. Together, they form not only an experiential cycle but a philosophy of the atmospheric, where feelings and weather merge into abstract painting.(...) Each room is an extimate organ, an emotional state displaced into architecture and abstract painting. Rain is not “mine,” but surrounds me; lava burns in the world but ignites within; petals fall from elsewhere yet touch the core of memory. The Meteorium reveals that consciousness is meteorological: interiority is shaped by storms, moods are forms of weather.(…)Climate disasters punctuate our times like Carnival’s drumbeats: Amazonian fires reddening the sky, polar ice collapsing like a fragile Gothic cathedral, hurricanes that erase entire towns, pandemics whose vectors are meteorological as much as biological. The Meteorium does not hide from these catastrophes; it models or stages them in miniature, as weather reports of the soul.(…)The octagon becomes less a geometry of resistance than of exposure: eight faces turned toward a horizon that is itself unstable. But exposure is not despair.(…) For the Meteorium is not a bunker but a folly, a borderless kiosk where seriousness and play coincide, where the Agora returns as a meteorological salon. One enters not to escape but to participate in a carousel ride, to let one’s own moods be refracted by clouds, by gusts, by lights." #tristanbera

#meteorium "There are houses that close themselves like fists, opaque boxes or bunkers designed to shut out the chaos of the sky, and there are houses that, on the contrary, breathe with the seasons, that vibrate with every storm and every dawn like in a recurring dream. DGF’s Meteorium, unveiled at #PinacotecadeSãoPaulo’s Octógono, belongs to the second magic kind: not a shelter from weather, but an instrument or an invention for perceiving its variations, an observatory of sensations as much as of clouds, a barometer dragged as an architectural folly.(…) Here—and this is the extra layer of inexplicable magic—, the octagon mutates into a carousel, a rotation of climates. Eight rooms unfold like the eight winds of antiquity, each one staging a distinct meteorological state: rain, snow, lava, cloud, wind, mud, dust, and petals. Together, they form not only an experiential cycle but a philosophy of the atmospheric, where feelings and weather merge into abstract painting.(...) Each room is an extimate organ, an emotional state displaced into architecture and abstract painting. Rain is not “mine,” but surrounds me; lava burns in the world but ignites within; petals fall from elsewhere yet touch the core of memory. The Meteorium reveals that consciousness is meteorological: interiority is shaped by storms, moods are forms of weather.(…)Climate disasters punctuate our times like Carnival’s drumbeats: Amazonian fires reddening the sky, polar ice collapsing like a fragile Gothic cathedral, hurricanes that erase entire towns, pandemics whose vectors are meteorological as much as biological. The Meteorium does not hide from these catastrophes; it models or stages them in miniature, as weather reports of the soul.(…)The octagon becomes less a geometry of resistance than of exposure: eight faces turned toward a horizon that is itself unstable. But exposure is not despair.(…) For the Meteorium is not a bunker but a folly, a borderless kiosk where seriousness and play coincide, where the Agora returns as a meteorological salon. One enters not to escape but to participate in a carousel ride, to let one’s own moods be refracted by clouds, by gusts, by lights." #tristanbera

#meteorium "There are houses that close themselves like fists, opaque boxes or bunkers designed to shut out the chaos of the sky, and there are houses that, on the contrary, breathe with the seasons, that vibrate with every storm and every dawn like in a recurring dream. DGF’s Meteorium, unveiled at #PinacotecadeSãoPaulo’s Octógono, belongs to the second magic kind: not a shelter from weather, but an instrument or an invention for perceiving its variations, an observatory of sensations as much as of clouds, a barometer dragged as an architectural folly.(…) Here—and this is the extra layer of inexplicable magic—, the octagon mutates into a carousel, a rotation of climates. Eight rooms unfold like the eight winds of antiquity, each one staging a distinct meteorological state: rain, snow, lava, cloud, wind, mud, dust, and petals. Together, they form not only an experiential cycle but a philosophy of the atmospheric, where feelings and weather merge into abstract painting.(...) Each room is an extimate organ, an emotional state displaced into architecture and abstract painting. Rain is not “mine,” but surrounds me; lava burns in the world but ignites within; petals fall from elsewhere yet touch the core of memory. The Meteorium reveals that consciousness is meteorological: interiority is shaped by storms, moods are forms of weather.(…)Climate disasters punctuate our times like Carnival’s drumbeats: Amazonian fires reddening the sky, polar ice collapsing like a fragile Gothic cathedral, hurricanes that erase entire towns, pandemics whose vectors are meteorological as much as biological. The Meteorium does not hide from these catastrophes; it models or stages them in miniature, as weather reports of the soul.(…)The octagon becomes less a geometry of resistance than of exposure: eight faces turned toward a horizon that is itself unstable. But exposure is not despair.(…) For the Meteorium is not a bunker but a folly, a borderless kiosk where seriousness and play coincide, where the Agora returns as a meteorological salon. One enters not to escape but to participate in a carousel ride, to let one’s own moods be refracted by clouds, by gusts, by lights." #tristanbera

#meteorium "There are houses that close themselves like fists, opaque boxes or bunkers designed to shut out the chaos of the sky, and there are houses that, on the contrary, breathe with the seasons, that vibrate with every storm and every dawn like in a recurring dream. DGF’s Meteorium, unveiled at #PinacotecadeSãoPaulo’s Octógono, belongs to the second magic kind: not a shelter from weather, but an instrument or an invention for perceiving its variations, an observatory of sensations as much as of clouds, a barometer dragged as an architectural folly.(…) Here—and this is the extra layer of inexplicable magic—, the octagon mutates into a carousel, a rotation of climates. Eight rooms unfold like the eight winds of antiquity, each one staging a distinct meteorological state: rain, snow, lava, cloud, wind, mud, dust, and petals. Together, they form not only an experiential cycle but a philosophy of the atmospheric, where feelings and weather merge into abstract painting.(...) Each room is an extimate organ, an emotional state displaced into architecture and abstract painting. Rain is not “mine,” but surrounds me; lava burns in the world but ignites within; petals fall from elsewhere yet touch the core of memory. The Meteorium reveals that consciousness is meteorological: interiority is shaped by storms, moods are forms of weather.(…)Climate disasters punctuate our times like Carnival’s drumbeats: Amazonian fires reddening the sky, polar ice collapsing like a fragile Gothic cathedral, hurricanes that erase entire towns, pandemics whose vectors are meteorological as much as biological. The Meteorium does not hide from these catastrophes; it models or stages them in miniature, as weather reports of the soul.(…)The octagon becomes less a geometry of resistance than of exposure: eight faces turned toward a horizon that is itself unstable. But exposure is not despair.(…) For the Meteorium is not a bunker but a folly, a borderless kiosk where seriousness and play coincide, where the Agora returns as a meteorological salon. One enters not to escape but to participate in a carousel ride, to let one’s own moods be refracted by clouds, by gusts, by lights." #tristanbera

#meteorium "There are houses that close themselves like fists, opaque boxes or bunkers designed to shut out the chaos of the sky, and there are houses that, on the contrary, breathe with the seasons, that vibrate with every storm and every dawn like in a recurring dream. DGF’s Meteorium, unveiled at #PinacotecadeSãoPaulo’s Octógono, belongs to the second magic kind: not a shelter from weather, but an instrument or an invention for perceiving its variations, an observatory of sensations as much as of clouds, a barometer dragged as an architectural folly.(…) Here—and this is the extra layer of inexplicable magic—, the octagon mutates into a carousel, a rotation of climates. Eight rooms unfold like the eight winds of antiquity, each one staging a distinct meteorological state: rain, snow, lava, cloud, wind, mud, dust, and petals. Together, they form not only an experiential cycle but a philosophy of the atmospheric, where feelings and weather merge into abstract painting.(...) Each room is an extimate organ, an emotional state displaced into architecture and abstract painting. Rain is not “mine,” but surrounds me; lava burns in the world but ignites within; petals fall from elsewhere yet touch the core of memory. The Meteorium reveals that consciousness is meteorological: interiority is shaped by storms, moods are forms of weather.(…)Climate disasters punctuate our times like Carnival’s drumbeats: Amazonian fires reddening the sky, polar ice collapsing like a fragile Gothic cathedral, hurricanes that erase entire towns, pandemics whose vectors are meteorological as much as biological. The Meteorium does not hide from these catastrophes; it models or stages them in miniature, as weather reports of the soul.(…)The octagon becomes less a geometry of resistance than of exposure: eight faces turned toward a horizon that is itself unstable. But exposure is not despair.(…) For the Meteorium is not a bunker but a folly, a borderless kiosk where seriousness and play coincide, where the Agora returns as a meteorological salon. One enters not to escape but to participate in a carousel ride, to let one’s own moods be refracted by clouds, by gusts, by lights." #tristanbera

#meteorium "There are houses that close themselves like fists, opaque boxes or bunkers designed to shut out the chaos of the sky, and there are houses that, on the contrary, breathe with the seasons, that vibrate with every storm and every dawn like in a recurring dream. DGF’s Meteorium, unveiled at #PinacotecadeSãoPaulo’s Octógono, belongs to the second magic kind: not a shelter from weather, but an instrument or an invention for perceiving its variations, an observatory of sensations as much as of clouds, a barometer dragged as an architectural folly.(…) Here—and this is the extra layer of inexplicable magic—, the octagon mutates into a carousel, a rotation of climates. Eight rooms unfold like the eight winds of antiquity, each one staging a distinct meteorological state: rain, snow, lava, cloud, wind, mud, dust, and petals. Together, they form not only an experiential cycle but a philosophy of the atmospheric, where feelings and weather merge into abstract painting.(...) Each room is an extimate organ, an emotional state displaced into architecture and abstract painting. Rain is not “mine,” but surrounds me; lava burns in the world but ignites within; petals fall from elsewhere yet touch the core of memory. The Meteorium reveals that consciousness is meteorological: interiority is shaped by storms, moods are forms of weather.(…)Climate disasters punctuate our times like Carnival’s drumbeats: Amazonian fires reddening the sky, polar ice collapsing like a fragile Gothic cathedral, hurricanes that erase entire towns, pandemics whose vectors are meteorological as much as biological. The Meteorium does not hide from these catastrophes; it models or stages them in miniature, as weather reports of the soul.(…)The octagon becomes less a geometry of resistance than of exposure: eight faces turned toward a horizon that is itself unstable. But exposure is not despair.(…) For the Meteorium is not a bunker but a folly, a borderless kiosk where seriousness and play coincide, where the Agora returns as a meteorological salon. One enters not to escape but to participate in a carousel ride, to let one’s own moods be refracted by clouds, by gusts, by lights." #tristanbera

#meteorium "There are houses that close themselves like fists, opaque boxes or bunkers designed to shut out the chaos of the sky, and there are houses that, on the contrary, breathe with the seasons, that vibrate with every storm and every dawn like in a recurring dream. DGF’s Meteorium, unveiled at #PinacotecadeSãoPaulo’s Octógono, belongs to the second magic kind: not a shelter from weather, but an instrument or an invention for perceiving its variations, an observatory of sensations as much as of clouds, a barometer dragged as an architectural folly.(…) Here—and this is the extra layer of inexplicable magic—, the octagon mutates into a carousel, a rotation of climates. Eight rooms unfold like the eight winds of antiquity, each one staging a distinct meteorological state: rain, snow, lava, cloud, wind, mud, dust, and petals. Together, they form not only an experiential cycle but a philosophy of the atmospheric, where feelings and weather merge into abstract painting.(...) Each room is an extimate organ, an emotional state displaced into architecture and abstract painting. Rain is not “mine,” but surrounds me; lava burns in the world but ignites within; petals fall from elsewhere yet touch the core of memory. The Meteorium reveals that consciousness is meteorological: interiority is shaped by storms, moods are forms of weather.(…)Climate disasters punctuate our times like Carnival’s drumbeats: Amazonian fires reddening the sky, polar ice collapsing like a fragile Gothic cathedral, hurricanes that erase entire towns, pandemics whose vectors are meteorological as much as biological. The Meteorium does not hide from these catastrophes; it models or stages them in miniature, as weather reports of the soul.(…)The octagon becomes less a geometry of resistance than of exposure: eight faces turned toward a horizon that is itself unstable. But exposure is not despair.(…) For the Meteorium is not a bunker but a folly, a borderless kiosk where seriousness and play coincide, where the Agora returns as a meteorological salon. One enters not to escape but to participate in a carousel ride, to let one’s own moods be refracted by clouds, by gusts, by lights." #tristanbera

#meteorium "There are houses that close themselves like fists, opaque boxes or bunkers designed to shut out the chaos of the sky, and there are houses that, on the contrary, breathe with the seasons, that vibrate with every storm and every dawn like in a recurring dream. DGF’s Meteorium, unveiled at #PinacotecadeSãoPaulo’s Octógono, belongs to the second magic kind: not a shelter from weather, but an instrument or an invention for perceiving its variations, an observatory of sensations as much as of clouds, a barometer dragged as an architectural folly.(…) Here—and this is the extra layer of inexplicable magic—, the octagon mutates into a carousel, a rotation of climates. Eight rooms unfold like the eight winds of antiquity, each one staging a distinct meteorological state: rain, snow, lava, cloud, wind, mud, dust, and petals. Together, they form not only an experiential cycle but a philosophy of the atmospheric, where feelings and weather merge into abstract painting.(...) Each room is an extimate organ, an emotional state displaced into architecture and abstract painting. Rain is not “mine,” but surrounds me; lava burns in the world but ignites within; petals fall from elsewhere yet touch the core of memory. The Meteorium reveals that consciousness is meteorological: interiority is shaped by storms, moods are forms of weather.(…)Climate disasters punctuate our times like Carnival’s drumbeats: Amazonian fires reddening the sky, polar ice collapsing like a fragile Gothic cathedral, hurricanes that erase entire towns, pandemics whose vectors are meteorological as much as biological. The Meteorium does not hide from these catastrophes; it models or stages them in miniature, as weather reports of the soul.(…)The octagon becomes less a geometry of resistance than of exposure: eight faces turned toward a horizon that is itself unstable. But exposure is not despair.(…) For the Meteorium is not a bunker but a folly, a borderless kiosk where seriousness and play coincide, where the Agora returns as a meteorological salon. One enters not to escape but to participate in a carousel ride, to let one’s own moods be refracted by clouds, by gusts, by lights." #tristanbera

#meteorium "There are houses that close themselves like fists, opaque boxes or bunkers designed to shut out the chaos of the sky, and there are houses that, on the contrary, breathe with the seasons, that vibrate with every storm and every dawn like in a recurring dream. DGF’s Meteorium, unveiled at #PinacotecadeSãoPaulo’s Octógono, belongs to the second magic kind: not a shelter from weather, but an instrument or an invention for perceiving its variations, an observatory of sensations as much as of clouds, a barometer dragged as an architectural folly.(…) Here—and this is the extra layer of inexplicable magic—, the octagon mutates into a carousel, a rotation of climates. Eight rooms unfold like the eight winds of antiquity, each one staging a distinct meteorological state: rain, snow, lava, cloud, wind, mud, dust, and petals. Together, they form not only an experiential cycle but a philosophy of the atmospheric, where feelings and weather merge into abstract painting.(...) Each room is an extimate organ, an emotional state displaced into architecture and abstract painting. Rain is not “mine,” but surrounds me; lava burns in the world but ignites within; petals fall from elsewhere yet touch the core of memory. The Meteorium reveals that consciousness is meteorological: interiority is shaped by storms, moods are forms of weather.(…)Climate disasters punctuate our times like Carnival’s drumbeats: Amazonian fires reddening the sky, polar ice collapsing like a fragile Gothic cathedral, hurricanes that erase entire towns, pandemics whose vectors are meteorological as much as biological. The Meteorium does not hide from these catastrophes; it models or stages them in miniature, as weather reports of the soul.(…)The octagon becomes less a geometry of resistance than of exposure: eight faces turned toward a horizon that is itself unstable. But exposure is not despair.(…) For the Meteorium is not a bunker but a folly, a borderless kiosk where seriousness and play coincide, where the Agora returns as a meteorological salon. One enters not to escape but to participate in a carousel ride, to let one’s own moods be refracted by clouds, by gusts, by lights." #tristanbera

#exotourisme #lapiscineinterieure #newalbum #aquarium #flashback #skymenu #postforest @exotourisme5 @lamenageriedeverre @perez_sound

#exotourisme #lapiscineinterieure #newalbum #aquarium #flashback #skymenu #postforest @exotourisme5 @lamenageriedeverre @perez_sound

#exotourisme #lapiscineinterieure #newalbum #aquarium #flashback #skymenu #postforest @exotourisme5 @lamenageriedeverre @perez_sound

#exotourisme #lapiscineinterieure #newalbum #aquarium #flashback #skymenu #postforest @exotourisme5 @lamenageriedeverre @perez_sound

#exotourisme #lapiscineinterieure #newalbum #aquarium #flashback #skymenu #postforest @exotourisme5 @lamenageriedeverre @perez_sound

#exotourisme #lapiscineinterieure #newalbum #aquarium #flashback #skymenu #postforest @exotourisme5 @lamenageriedeverre @perez_sound

#exotourisme #lapiscineinterieure #newalbum #aquarium #flashback #skymenu #postforest @exotourisme5 @lamenageriedeverre @perez_sound

New album out now “La piscine intérieure” LINK IN BIO

"La piscine intérieure" 1er extrait du nouvel album d’Exotourisme à découvrir vendredi 28 mars @menagerie.de.verre

#davidlynch #blue velvet #red tears #bluerose #lilthedancer #thankyou #endless @davidlynch @gerbeauxmelanie @giascobertoli @exotourisme5 @alphaharpomarx

#davidlynch #blue velvet #red tears #bluerose #lilthedancer #thankyou #endless @davidlynch @gerbeauxmelanie @giascobertoli @exotourisme5 @alphaharpomarx

#davidlynch #blue velvet #red tears #bluerose #lilthedancer #thankyou #endless @davidlynch @gerbeauxmelanie @giascobertoli @exotourisme5 @alphaharpomarx

#davidlynch #blue velvet #red tears #bluerose #lilthedancer #thankyou #endless @davidlynch @gerbeauxmelanie @giascobertoli @exotourisme5 @alphaharpomarx

#davidlynch #blue velvet #red tears #bluerose #lilthedancer #thankyou #endless @davidlynch @gerbeauxmelanie @giascobertoli @exotourisme5 @alphaharpomarx

#davidlynch #blue velvet #red tears #bluerose #lilthedancer #thankyou #endless @davidlynch @gerbeauxmelanie @giascobertoli @exotourisme5 @alphaharpomarx

#davidlynch #blue velvet #red tears #bluerose #lilthedancer #thankyou #endless @davidlynch @gerbeauxmelanie @giascobertoli @exotourisme5 @alphaharpomarx

Hypnogirl24 #apparition #actuallysorry @lcmf__ @dawid.laskowski.photography @perez_sound @gerbeauxmelanie @virtuallightningbox #busterkeaton #magdeleineg #madeleineguipet #brygidaochaim #munichdancehistories @margaux.lalanne @igortoronyi @tinakhatrimua photo @dawid.laskowski.photography #okigonster #dominiquegonzalezfoerster

Hypnogirl24 #apparition #actuallysorry @lcmf__ @dawid.laskowski.photography @perez_sound @gerbeauxmelanie @virtuallightningbox #busterkeaton #magdeleineg #madeleineguipet #brygidaochaim #munichdancehistories @margaux.lalanne @igortoronyi @tinakhatrimua photo @dawid.laskowski.photography #okigonster #dominiquegonzalezfoerster

Hypnogirl24 #apparition #actuallysorry @lcmf__ @dawid.laskowski.photography @perez_sound @gerbeauxmelanie @virtuallightningbox #busterkeaton #magdeleineg #madeleineguipet #brygidaochaim #munichdancehistories @margaux.lalanne @igortoronyi @tinakhatrimua photo @dawid.laskowski.photography #okigonster #dominiquegonzalezfoerster

Celebrated artist @dominiquegonzalezfoerster will be premiering the latest iteration of her ‘Apparition’ cycle — ‘Hypnogirl 24’ — a new commission for LCMF.

‘“Hypnogirl 24” is the story of an apparition told by another apparition. 

Hypnogirl is Madeleine G. (born 1874) is Dominique G-F (born 1965), who never studied dance, dancing in an hypnotic state, experiencing music through movement and emotions.

A kind of musical seance disconnected from any rehearsal and acting.

With Julien Perez’s original music (Exotourisme)
a continuation of ‘Hypnogirl 23’
(Munich Dance Histories/Villa Stuck Munich 2023)
and part of the « apparition » cycle developed by DGF since 2013’

THIS WEEK! Catch it this Thursday 12th. The night kicks off at 7.30pm sharp, doors and drinks from 7pm. Some tickets still available, starting at just £15.

Celebrated artist @dominiquegonzalezfoerster will be premiering the latest iteration of her ‘Apparition’ cycle — ‘Hypnogirl 24’ — a new commission for LCMF.

‘“Hypnogirl 24” is the story of an apparition told by another apparition. 

Hypnogirl is Madeleine G. (born 1874) is Dominique G-F (born 1965), who never studied dance, dancing in an hypnotic state, experiencing music through movement and emotions.

A kind of musical seance disconnected from any rehearsal and acting.

With Julien Perez’s original music (Exotourisme)
a continuation of ‘Hypnogirl 23’
(Munich Dance Histories/Villa Stuck Munich 2023)
and part of the « apparition » cycle developed by DGF since 2013’

THIS WEEK! Catch it this Thursday 12th. The night kicks off at 7.30pm sharp, doors and drinks from 7pm. Some tickets still available, starting at just £15.

#atomicpark #film #ageatomique #whitesands #misfits #involution #exotourisme #cameralucida @museedartmodernedeparis

#atomicpark #film #ageatomique #whitesands #misfits #involution #exotourisme #cameralucida @museedartmodernedeparis

#atomicpark #film #ageatomique #whitesands #misfits #involution #exotourisme #cameralucida @museedartmodernedeparis

#atomicpark #film #ageatomique #whitesands #misfits #involution #exotourisme #cameralucida @museedartmodernedeparis

#atomicpark #film #ageatomique #whitesands #misfits #involution #exotourisme #cameralucida @museedartmodernedeparis