Come on in…

What will you find at the end of the corridor? The frame pulls you inward. The eye enters through the shadowed foreground, past the blurred figure standing half in, half out of the light, and begins its slow walk down the corridor. The walls, cracked and weathered, carry the patina of time. Arched ceilings recede rhythmically, each arch framing the next, each doorway leading you further inside.

Along the path, framed photographs lean against the walls, their colours softened by the dim light. They are not hung with formality; they rest casually, like travellers waiting to be claimed. The projector to the right hints at moving images, yet here, everything feels suspended in stillness.

At the far end, in the brightest point of the composition, a figure stands facing another—perhaps in conversation, perhaps in quiet examination of the art around them. This is where the visual journey stops, but not where the curiosity ends. The distance compresses them into silhouettes of activity, stripped of detail but rich in suggestion.

What will you find at the end of the corridor? Maybe it’s just a small room with more pictures. Maybe it’s the heart of the exhibition, the place where the artist explains their work to a listener. Or maybe it’s something intangible—the moment when the act of walking through this layered space becomes part of the artwork itself. The photograph offers no answer, only an invitation to keep moving forward.