Watching Pierre Huyghe's new film Liminals in the gutted power station of Halle am Berghain, it's hard to distinguish between what's happening on the screen and what's happening around you. The space itself is a key part of the experience, with its concrete pillars, suspended coal chutes, and general air of decay. A delicate hand emerges on the screen, not quite in colour, not quite in black and white, accompanied by sounds of scurrying, granular sifting, and small stones being displaced.
The figure at the centre of the film is a person, but one that's both human and non-human, with characteristics that seem almost avatar-like. As they move through the desiccated landscape, their hands and bodies are rendered in great detail, with cuts, grazes, and scars that make them all too human. The camera lingers on these details, creating a sense of intimacy and vulnerability.
At the same time, the film is full of anomalies and glitches - shapes in the rocks, shadows and silhouettes that seem to come alive, and sounds that are both familiar and strange. It's as if the boundaries between past and present, things and images, insides and outsides, are becoming increasingly porous.
Huyghe has said that he wanted to create a sense of "porosity" between different states, and Liminals is an experience that will stay with you long after you leave the space. The film's use of quantum mechanics as a metaphor for this porosity is deliberate, but it's not just about scientific concepts - it's about the way we experience reality.
As I watched the film, I couldn't help but think of other artists who explore similar themes - Willem de Kooning's sculptures, Francis Bacon's painted heads, Samuel Beckett's How It Is. And yet, Huyghe's work is always distinct, never quite replicable.
Liminals is on at Halle am Berghain in Berlin until 8 March. If you're looking for an experience that will challenge your perceptions and leave you feeling unsettled, this is it. But be warned: it's not just a film - it's an entire world becoming more rounded with each new work, and once you've entered its boundaries, there's no turning back.
The figure at the centre of the film is a person, but one that's both human and non-human, with characteristics that seem almost avatar-like. As they move through the desiccated landscape, their hands and bodies are rendered in great detail, with cuts, grazes, and scars that make them all too human. The camera lingers on these details, creating a sense of intimacy and vulnerability.
At the same time, the film is full of anomalies and glitches - shapes in the rocks, shadows and silhouettes that seem to come alive, and sounds that are both familiar and strange. It's as if the boundaries between past and present, things and images, insides and outsides, are becoming increasingly porous.
Huyghe has said that he wanted to create a sense of "porosity" between different states, and Liminals is an experience that will stay with you long after you leave the space. The film's use of quantum mechanics as a metaphor for this porosity is deliberate, but it's not just about scientific concepts - it's about the way we experience reality.
As I watched the film, I couldn't help but think of other artists who explore similar themes - Willem de Kooning's sculptures, Francis Bacon's painted heads, Samuel Beckett's How It Is. And yet, Huyghe's work is always distinct, never quite replicable.
Liminals is on at Halle am Berghain in Berlin until 8 March. If you're looking for an experience that will challenge your perceptions and leave you feeling unsettled, this is it. But be warned: it's not just a film - it's an entire world becoming more rounded with each new work, and once you've entered its boundaries, there's no turning back.