This work on the representation of light was started during my stay at the Villa Medici between 1996 and 1998, then reworked at the Casa de Velazquez between 1999 and 2001 and resumed in Kyoto in the spring of 2018. We can capture light, cultivate it within ourselves and give back the fruits of it like trees, gift and counter-gift as taught to us by the so-called primitive societies whose ways of life are so well adapted to their ecosystem. But in the end, it is our relationship to the world that is at stake here: this Book of Hours is the sound experience of it, from night to night.

The Rabbi: What did you see, Sarah, in the depths of hell?

Sarah: I see the fire, but I don’t see Yukel. I see water smothering the flame, but I don’t see Yukel. I see the water and the fire.

The Rabbi: What did you see, Yukel, in the depth of the night?

Yukel: I see the shadow in the shadow, but I don’t see the night. I see the sun in the sun, but I don’t see the day.

The Rabbi: What do you hope for, Sarah, in the depths of hell?

Sarah: I am between iron and iron and I dream of horizons. I am between the wall and the wall and I dream of harvests.

The Rabbi: What do you hope for, Yukel, in the depths of the night?

Yukel : Not to see; the later to see in order to reach the promontory of the view.

Edmond Jabès, Le livre des questions [extrait], éditions Gallimard