In the morning mist, the barely visible figure of a woman. As if on a tightrope, she walks along the edges of a stone pool, one step at a time. Close by, the same figure appears, creating a hand shadow on the wall of a rough concrete building, or contemplating its reflection in the calm waters of a lake…Recollections of childhood games, moments when one discovers in bewilderment that we are actually part of this world. Human presence discreetly seeps into the landscapes, softly slides in. A posture, a slight gesture… and a link is established. A shadow is cast, an object is picked up, a reflection is seen: the effect of a being on his surroundings always remains slight. The body may then make its imprint by proxy, by mere projection. Points of contact appear, bonds are woven, and these minimalist spaces become territories of introspection. Staging these moments, Loan Nguyen takes on the part of an actress in scenarios where likely reconciliations between nature and culture are played. However, as we move from one scene to the next, we do not uncover any narrative; of her, nothing is said. She shows no intention of drawing up a self-portrait, only that of giving herself the means to accomplish a heartfelt interpretation of the landscapes. As a result, they penetrate the sphere of intimacy, becoming inner landscapes. Far from any form of anthropocentrism, the environment and its inhabitant are given the same attention, no domination of one over the other ever being felt. As a part of a whole, man recovers his rightful place and discovers his own existence at the same time as the world’s. Subtle pictorial suggestions, for as many aesthetic visions.

Translated from French by Gregory Wicky.