ROOM 21 | “SLIT”
The last room of the first floor creates a long cut, a fissure, an opening. The museum’s fabric seems to be cut open by it. And visitors find themselves able to breath again fresh air.
Everything aims toward the sky here. Everything. Visitors included. They aim to the high. To the sky. Why? Because they need to.
There’s no turning back here. The journey has been fulfilled. The get in this room changed, somehow. Maybe deeply changed. Maybe not. Who knows.
Like a lighthouse, the high wall in front of them seems to tower visitors and at the same time, to indicate the way.
Where to go, now? Where’s the right direction to follow, at the end of the row? No one knows. Also, no one cares.
It’s the journey which matters. The place visitors reach at the end is just there to remind them precisely that.
Like a carved stone.
Like a monument to the unknown and unexpected.