The Story of a Disappearance

A rumour spreads through the queue. Those at its head become agitated. They discuss loudly with the guard, who smiles at them and gestures with his hands as though he were trying to reassure them. Everyone looks at everyone else. The guard leaves his post and comes towards us to warn us: “The waiting time is approximately 50 minutes.” Taken aback by this, the person beside me repeats: “50 minutes? But what can they be doing in there? Is it that big?” The guard contents himself by smiling mysteriously. My neighbour casts him an interrogatory glance ­without success, since the guard does not respond. The only explanation ­provided is written on the wall facing us: “Gregor Schneider Süßer duft.”1 1  - From 22 February to 18 May 2008, the German artist Gregor Schneider presented the installation Süßer duft at La Maison Rouge, Fondation Antoine de Galbert (Paris).  The guard receives a message on his walkie-talkie and addresses himself to the visitor standing next to him who squirms impatiently: “Have you read this document?” The man acquiesces. “Perfect. If you agree, write your surname and given name.” The guard gives him a pen and, ­pointing his finger at the bottom of a sheet, he adds: “Sign here.” Everyone in line quiets down in an effort to hear the explanation. The man complies, looks back at us one last time, and walks down the corridor indicated by the guard. At this point every visitor feverishly awaits the moment when he or she will be invited to read THE document in question and maybe sign it. Finally, the much anticipated moment arrives. On the wall a small sign declares: “As a result of specific conditions required by the artist, the Süßer duft exhibition can only be visited one person at a time. If you are claustrophobic, have cardiac problems, or if you suffer from anxiety in conditions of total obscurity, it is preferable that you do not enter the exhibit or that you do so in the company of another person. We furthermore discourage pregnant women from entering the ­exhibition. Know that you are under no risk. If you cannot find the exit, wait patiently: a guard knows you are there and will come to get you.” 

Total obscurity… No risk… This makes one wonder. The guard has returned and shifts his balance from one foot to the other; he plays distractedly with the walkie-talkie’s antenna. When a crackling sound is heard, he starts and indicates to a visitor that his turn has come by extending to him the form to sign. The man squints his eyes better to grasp the scope of what is being asked of him and begins reading: “Dear visitors, as a result of ­specific conditions required by the artist, the exhibition Süßer duft can only be visited individually. Since the configuration of the exhibition does not permit conventional supervision, each visitor is invited to assume responsibility for himself by ­signing the following agreement. The Maison Rouge ­refuses all responsibility for possible physical or material damage incurred in the exhibition. In ­signing below, you declare to have been made aware of these conditions.” The man raises his head, twisting his mouth into a ­grimace. He appears to be upset and embarrassed. He mutters something in the guard’s direction, cracks a weak hint of a smile, and quickly heads toward the art centre’s exit. Stupefied, we watch him leave. The rumour spreads once more through the queue. Visitors stand there, ­worried and nervous, like divers lined up at the foot of the ­staircase leading to the high diving board. Waiting time of 50 minutes: in having almost reached our objective, we cannot give up. At the base of the diving platform, we would at the very least enjoy the satisfaction of knowing what awaits us, of seeing others jump in and swim back up to the surface of the water. However, Süßer duft swallows spectators one after another without spitting them back out. Not one returns to tell us. We hear no story to reassure us.