As I stepped up the stairs to Halle am Berghain, the defunct power plant turned art space, the air was thick with anticipation. The darkness enveloped me, a sea of faces shrouded in phones, waiting for their eyes to adjust to the dim light. But it's only when you're already inside that you realize you're part of the experience. Pierre Huyghe's Liminals is more than just a film projected on a screen – it's a quantum experiment, a mythological journey, and a terrifying vision.
The room pulsed with vibrations, a gut-wobbling thrum that seemed to reverberate through every cell in my body. The soundscape was like nothing I'd ever experienced: dancing particles, sudden ear-splitting crackles, and a sizzling aural rain that ricocheted everywhere. It was impossible to distinguish what was happening on the screen from what was happening around me.
The film itself was a journey into the unknown, a study in liminality – that threshold state between two worlds. A delicate hand emerged on the screen, not quite human, not quite recognizable as female. The face was a void, a dark cavity that seemed to draw me in. Suddenly, everything tilts and we're faced with an abyss, a roaring, flickering void that threatens to consume us.
As I watched, transfixed, the figure's hands became unnaturally malleable, twisting and curling in ways that defied human anatomy. It was as if they were becoming something else entirely – an avatar, perhaps, or a manifestation of some deeper, quantum reality. The camera dwelled on shapes in the rocks, casting shadows and silhouettes that seemed to take on lives of their own.
It's hard not to think of earlier works by Huyghe, like Untitled (Human Mask) or Untilled, which explored themes of identity and the blurring of boundaries between human and animal. But Liminals is something new, something different – a world that's both boundless and bounded, where the past and present collide in ways that are both beautiful and terrifying.
As I left the Halle am Berghain, the city seemed to stretch out before me like an endless, pulsing entity. The experience of Liminals had lodged itself in my head, refusing to let go. How alive it all was, how unhinging – a feeling that still resonates long after the lights went down and the room fell silent.
The room pulsed with vibrations, a gut-wobbling thrum that seemed to reverberate through every cell in my body. The soundscape was like nothing I'd ever experienced: dancing particles, sudden ear-splitting crackles, and a sizzling aural rain that ricocheted everywhere. It was impossible to distinguish what was happening on the screen from what was happening around me.
The film itself was a journey into the unknown, a study in liminality – that threshold state between two worlds. A delicate hand emerged on the screen, not quite human, not quite recognizable as female. The face was a void, a dark cavity that seemed to draw me in. Suddenly, everything tilts and we're faced with an abyss, a roaring, flickering void that threatens to consume us.
As I watched, transfixed, the figure's hands became unnaturally malleable, twisting and curling in ways that defied human anatomy. It was as if they were becoming something else entirely – an avatar, perhaps, or a manifestation of some deeper, quantum reality. The camera dwelled on shapes in the rocks, casting shadows and silhouettes that seemed to take on lives of their own.
It's hard not to think of earlier works by Huyghe, like Untitled (Human Mask) or Untilled, which explored themes of identity and the blurring of boundaries between human and animal. But Liminals is something new, something different – a world that's both boundless and bounded, where the past and present collide in ways that are both beautiful and terrifying.
As I left the Halle am Berghain, the city seemed to stretch out before me like an endless, pulsing entity. The experience of Liminals had lodged itself in my head, refusing to let go. How alive it all was, how unhinging – a feeling that still resonates long after the lights went down and the room fell silent.
Interesting how Pierre Huyghe's new film can create an immersive experience like that, making you question what's real and what's just part of the installation 
It's like your senses are heightened and everything feels so raw and visceral... 
I mean, who needs VR when you've got a room full of sound, visuals and vibes that can transport you to another world? 
but also not at all... it's hard to explain but it was like something between a human & an avatar, like from one of those sci-fi vids 
. I need to see more of Huyghe's work ASAP, his style is SO unique 
. And can we talk about the soundscape? It was like someone turned up the volume on my anxiety and just let it rip 
it's not just a film on a screen, it's an immersive thing that gets under your skin. the vibrations in the room were insane! 
and the soundscape was so unsettling, but in a good way? it's like your brain is trying to make sense of all these weird sounds and visuals. 
anyway, i need to go back there again ASAP 
. I mean, what is real and what's not? It's all just this swirling vortex of sound and image that leaves you breathless 
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. I mean, what's the point of it all? Is it just meant to be some sorta existential crisis for the audience or something? And don't even get me started on how it's being marketed - like, who are they trying to pull in with this stuff? It feels super elitist and out of touch, you know? 
Anyway, I guess it's cool if you're into that sorta thing... but for me, I'll stick to something a bit more down-to-earth 
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it's like Pierre Huyghe took every creepy dream I've ever had and brought them to life on screen 
I mean, who else can make a film about some faceless figure morphing into a non-human form so mesmerizing 
. Like, what if we just can't handle reality anymore? 
The whole liminality thing is kinda creepy, but in a good way... it's like our brains are trying to process something that's beyond human understanding 
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. And that figure on the screen? It was like something out of a sci-fi movie or a fever dream 
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. don't get me wrong, it's not for everyone - i mean, some parts were really intense and left me feeling unsettled 
. but if you're into art that pushes boundaries and challenges your perceptions, then halle am berghain's definitely worth a visit. just be prepared for a wild ride 
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. But what I'm really intrigued about is how this piece explores liminality, that threshold state between two worlds... it's like Huyghe is taking us on a journey into the very fabric of reality 
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. i'm not even kidding when i say that the film on screen felt like it was happening all around me, like the particles and shapes were seeping into my skin 
i love how you put it, it's a quantum experiment that challenges your perceptions of reality...i've been listening to some huyghes music lately and it's like he's tapping into this deeper consciousness 