Pierre Huyghe in Berlin – Uncertainty without Vision
- Jonas
Expectations were high for Pierre Huyghe’s exhibition Liminals, presented by the LAS Art Foundation in the Halle am Berghain. The artist is known for his dystopian visions of the future, in which he engages with existential questions of what it means to be human. His most recent major exhibition, Liminal (without the “s”), shown at the Pinault Collection in Venice and at the Leeum Museum in Seoul, was widely discussed and critically acclaimed.
Now, Huyghe has been commissioned by the LAS Art Foundation to produce a new work. According to LAS` CEO and co-founder Bettina Kames, the organization aims to support artists in engaging with the fundamental scientific questions of our time. Its “Sensing Quantum” program focuses on artistic investigations into the highly complex field of quantum physics. The topic is socially relevant, as it promises groundbreaking applications—such as quantum computing—but is also philosophically significant, as it challenges the logic of our established modes of thought. Following Laure Prouvost’s exhibition “We Felt a Star Dying” at Kraftwerk Berlin last year, Huyghe now turns to this subject.
According to the exhibition text, “Liminals”, the exhibition and the eponymous installation, engages with concepts of uncertainty through quantum experiments—and in this sense, the description quite literally hits the nail on the head: from the first moment to the last, the viewer remains in a state of uncertainty, though unfortunately not in the stimulating or inspiring way one expects from compelling art.
Huyghe’s “installation” is, in fact, a film. In the Halle am Berghain, with its massive concrete columns and towering ceiling, a gigantic screen has been installed—an impressive sight. The work transports us into a grey, desolate rocky wasteland. At first, there is no sign of life, until a figure with a female-read body and short black hair appears from behind a rock. Where human facial features would normally be, there is an oval, black void—her head appears hollow.
The ghostly figure seems disoriented, moving—sometimes walking, sometimes crawling—through the barren landscape, as if her face had been stolen and she had been exiled, without consent, into this desolation, where she now attempts to find her bearings. Her exploration culminates in a form of interaction with the landscape. She brings her head close to the rock as the sound intensifies—one is reminded of an approaching sandworm in Denis Villeneuve’s recent adaptation of the sci-fi epic “Dune”. The ground directly in front of her head begins to vibrate, almost as if splashing rain were falling onto it. In the next moment, the figure stands abruptly at the edge of a dark, bottomless abyss, which visually mirrors the gaping opening in the woman’s face. This sequence is repeated twice over the course of the nearly hour-long film. In between, the barren landscape is illuminated; crackling sounds sometimes create the impression that the rock itself is “alive.”
The auditory dimension of the work is genuinely impressive. According to curator Carly Whitefield, visual input was translated into a quantum simulation, which was then converted into audio effects. The sound usually emanates from the direction of the screen, but in more intense moments also from speakers positioned to the left and right of the audience. Deep and theatrical, it creates a tension that suggests something momentous, something meaningful, is about to occur. What that might be remains unclear. Unfortunately, the work leaves all interpretive possibilities open.
The world created by Huyghe appears to be a metaphysical one, pointing toward something that exceeds human sensory perception. Yet these impressions are difficult to situate or fully comprehend. There is nothing speculative here—no artistic engagement with the subject matter that goes beyond a visual representation of uncertainty itself. In a statement published by LAS, Huyghe notes: “an observer witnessing the ambiguous nature of the entity, its monstrosity, follows states of indeterminacy—of the uncertainty of being, living or existing.” This is undoubtedly a desirable effect in the experience of art, but it is so general that one could just as well claim that Bacon or Picasso were engaging with quantum physics.
Whitefield explicitly addressed this point in her introduction, suggesting that the work could be understood as a counter-model to the frequently used art-world buzzword of “worldbuilding.” The work, she argued, “it removes the stabilizing structures that we usually rely on.” and “creates conditions for other possibilities of being to emerge.” This curatorial buzzword bingo, too, describes something that good art often achieves—but does it not fall short? Is the truly essential quality of art not less about dissolution than about planting a seed of thought within the structures it has first opened up?
Apart from the absence of a clear narrative, there is little room for interpretation even on a symbolic level. This reveals a common problem in artistic works using new media, particularly AI-generated visuals. The creative act of constructing an entire world may be a fulfilling process, one in which complex ideas can manifest in equally complex forms. Yet the risk that audiences will be unable to follow these layered lines of thought is considerable. Here, the limitations inherent in working with physical material prove advantageous: they enforce a focus on what is essential. This clarity is missing in “Liminals”. It should be noted, however, that clarity of expression by no means implies a clear message. In this regard, the poet W. H. Auden’s remark is fitting: “Great art is clear thinking about mixed feelings.” Good art does not provide answers; it stimulates thought, directing it along unexpected paths. For this to succeed, however, one must feel that the artist is confident, that he has a vision.
Toward the end of the film, the protagonist collapses. In the next moment, a stone-like heap lies on the ground—presumably the figure herself. The film, set on a loop, seamlessly restarts. The camera glides over the deserted rocky landscape. One watches for a while longer, until it becomes clear that this is the already familiar beginning, and then turns away, unsatisfied. Not even a clear ending releases the viewer from the film’s vagueness—condemning one instead to remain mentally suspended in the work’s emptiness.
Quantum physics is undoubtedly a particularly challenging subject for artistic engagement. In addition to the audience’s presumed lack of knowledge, Huyghe himself must surely have felt overwhelmed at times when consulting with experts on the topic. An introductory text on IBM’s website describes quantum physics as “bizarre and counterintuitive.” Perhaps, once quantum technology has become more established within broader society, we will look back and see the work with greater clarity.
Yet this argument is undermined by the fact that, however specialized an engagement with quantum physics may be, at its core it touches on themes deeply embedded in human life and art: metaphysical reflection, the questioning of existence, and unforeseeable social dynamics. Simply representing these themes is not enough.
Pierre Huyghe “Liminals“, presented by LAS Art Foundation, is on view until March 8, 2026 at Halle am Berghain.