after eight at night, supposed to be asleep, i’d lay listening to the ships’ horns and aeroplanes’ drone, the bombs’ whistles and the soldiers’ whispers while the leaders’ smothered declarations echo down the passage; the winds of war. my parents were watching it in our living room, a tv-series broadcast way after my bedtime. from my bed this quiet conflict was only made of dreams and fiction, not at all a part of my history although the memory of faceless voices against the backdrop of violence still haunts me.
our heroes weekly fight brave battles and romantic drama unfolds in a climate of political and public disillusionment, insecurities grow and rumours circle, secret communications are exposed, populist propagandas are published and despotic leaders negotiate their military confrontations in advance.
the indiscernible voices of maarten baas‘s installation for lensvelt in milan’s ventura centrale reanimated those suspense filled evenings for me; housed in an abandoned fascist era station probably also helped. the multi coloured megaphones emitted muffled recordings in various pitch and play, while the other visitors to the exhibition added to the hushed maelstrom. megaphones were centred around an amphitheatre of chairs designed with the emphasis on individuality and difference, although seemingly similar, aptly called ‘may i have your attention please?’ the installation creates a certain uncomfortable feeling of anticipation for an important announcement; to an audience which isn’t there and which never happens.
