The mountain picture near the entrance, not quite central, like a hesitant spectator of the exhibition: that’s where the dances will settle themselves.
“Have you ever been danced before?” Alix asks the images.
After having been brought into parallel existence over the last weeks, exposed, transformed by the hands of painters, talked about by onlookers, the images now mutated into emanations scintillating in artificial lights.
Alix will slide into these vapours, this partially veiled intimacy, dedicating herself and her dances to channel the aired thoughts, impressions (waiting to be danced), to track the almost imperceptible interplay of the most minor details.
That is what this dance can do: shape something without it being precise, in a constant stream that relates the images to their context, lending them shapes and perfumes.