Prototypes d'un futur incertain

2025
Sail fabric, tent fabric, fiberglass rods, zipper
Big tent approx. 210 x 210 x 180 cm
Small tent approx. 185 x 185 x 150 cm

For centuries, the dream of leaving Earth has oscillated between utopian promise and technological anxiety. From Somnium by Johannes Kepler (1634) — a lunar vision of survival under extreme conditions — to the radical theories of Konstantin Tsiolkovsky, the idea of colonizing space has long fascinated scientists, writers, and philosophers alike. For a long time, it was a story of boundless optimism: a vision of perfect habitats, clean technologies, and infinite horizons — in short, the vision of a better humanity.
Today, although these visions are no longer confined to speculative texts, they now resemble a myth — an extension of the same extractivist logic that has already wounded the Earth through multiple, seemingly insoluble crises. Private companies now project Martian cities and lunar bases, while certain influential voices claim that escaping Earth might be our only chance for survival. Yet such ambitions raise troubling questions: are we seeking a second chance, or merely exporting our own failures into the cosmos?
These works — tent-shaped sculptures made from reclaimed sails, tarps, and camping materials — inhabit that tension. They evoke both the improvised shelters of displaced populations and the fragile dwellings of future colonies. Marked by stains and traces of previous lives, they speak of fragility, resilience, and the human impulse to build — even under hostile conditions. These objects are not prototypes of space habitats, but poetic reflections: temporary monuments to our longing for other worlds and to the urgent crises that confront us on this one.