The Talking Rooms are immersive sound fictions based on memories and a special interest in the relationship of children with the languages they learn.

These installations explore the narrative possibilities of combined scenery and sound. They occur as single-viewer shows, and come to life only for the viewer.

With the generous collaboration of Florence Richard, Raymond Delepierre, Raúl Carrera.

A feared phone conversation between a child and his foreign grandmother causes a nightmare. The child, hiding under the bed, is afraid to face a distant country, a distant family that haunts his daily life.

A sound space...

After passing through a narrow corridor in the dark, the spectator enters a tiny child room. The child, hidden under the bed, is whispering his anguish ...
"Hello? Hello?" Around the small room with porous walls, voices awaken one by one, and cause a terrible nightmare.

How to evoke the feeling, unclear and precise at the same time, of remembering? How to bring back to life a world without reducing it to a few photographs that will draw false contours? The images freeze imagination, guide the interpretation. The sound is a free and wide dimension, it does not spread out in space, privileged dimension of our references, but in time. Temporality of things escapes us.
The sound is, for me, an imagination trigger: it can be small and cause a multitude of visions and sensations. The spectator enters the imagination of the invisible child. Imagination that turns a simple conversation into a disturbing, fantastic, invasive experience.
Multicasting enables the creation of various sound plans and spaces. Some are close, clear, other distant, others imperceptible, others unbearable ...

Atelier 340, Brussels, 2011

Pok Library, Brussels, 2018.

The character of this story is a Bulgarian woman who was immersed in a Russian-speaking envi- ronment at a very young age, and finally became fully bilingual with French, as a teenager.

From flashes, sensations, events with imprecise chronology that have been reported to me, I intent to reconstruct a narrative in which the reality and my interpretation of the facts merge. From a fluid relation to the Russian language, close to hers and om- nipresent, in which she says she could «swim», my character will then be confronted with the concreteness of a laborious French learning process, compared to a roller- compressor.

Here, the space-time is entirely made of anachronism, the sound as well as the deco- ration, are a condensed of several years and places of living. The light ambiant refers to a more realistic temporality, the changing brightness of a sky through the window.