lark circus (text)

 

When you enter a forest filled with sounds, lights and movements —too numerous to be fully identified—, it usually feels like there is an awkward presence. This setting plays a fairly unassuming role in the rise of this awkwardness, magnifying this feeling thanks to pivoting mirrors moving along the wind. No matter what the weather is, these mirrors sparkle like leaves in the trees, and their reflection on the ground creates little suns whirling around the trunks.
A path crosses the place I chose. Walkers discover the setup and face a sign that writes: “This site is called The Lark Circus. Some people testified that many birds meet here, without our knowing.” The aim is not to fool the walker, but rather to give him the means to challenge his connection to the setting. He is being watched while actually being a watchman.
NB: the lark, flying at high altitude, never lands in the undergrowth.