Crossing and Dreams, Alliance Francaise Nairobi, 10 2010

The war was at the gates of the city when finally, the wind blew stronger.  They set sail on their clumsy small boat – four gaunt discouraged men.  They thought they would lose themselves in an immense ocean but all they found were twists and turns, small islands and freezing currents. The beginning of the crossing was however like taking a deep breath after the troubles. They only became anxious when they saw the gigantic animal outlined in the clouds that never evaporated. Two days later they were forced to acknowledge their plight.

The bottleneck that was still pushing them forward was dying.  They dragged their small sailing boat on the shore of luminous sands and disappeared into the forest to gather wood. Thus, they built a means of transport that enabled them to cross the grey expanse until they reached the waves again.  They headed East and came to a metallic river.  They each had a dream that had no precise meaning.  At the end of the river a whirlpool was waiting for them.  They fought night and day to avoid it, and on the third day, a rainy day, they managed to change course. They were exhausted but could sail on peacefully.  However, they were hounded by a deep sense of unease.  They told each other their dreams and discovered that they fitted together according to an implacable mechanism.

When they arrived at the other metallic river – a perfect replica of the one left behind them – they were not surprised to reach it via a new whirlpool.  This time they offered no resistance.  They were drawn by the abyss and were relieved to let themselves be caught.

This map was found on the russet island.

The instructions on it were written by one of the sailors.  The following assembled objects represent transcriptions of their dreams on the basis of a torn notebook found in a hut.  They lead to the works that are an attempt towards translating the significance of their collective vision.  The names of these men are unknown to us.  We have no idea as to the period during which they lived and neither can we situate these places.  It is ultimately of little importance.

Text by Jérôme Lafargue