Remote viewing1 is a psychic faculty which seeks to describe a target of any kind (place, event, person …) jointly using intuition and reasoning. The information is perceived at a distance (geographic and temporal) from the target.

In September 1980, Elisabeth Targ took part in an experiment. Janice Boughton, who led the experiment, chose four objects that represent the four possible results of the election of the new American president. Each object, hidden from Elizabeth, is placed in a small wooden box. Boughton then asked Targ: “Which object shall I present to you at midnight on election night? “2. Targ described a white, hollow, conical object with a string attached to the top of the cone. Maxime Bondu went the other way by deducing an artefact from this description, and thus setting out a possible interpretation of the vision of Elisabeth Targ.

Continuing then a fortuitous family connection – Elizabeth being the niece of Bobby Fischer, chess world champion – the artist weaves connections between remote viewing and chess, a game that crystallizes intelligence, memory and intuition.

Indeed during the world chess championship in Reykjavik in 1972, the Russian side accused the American player of using electronic or chemical devices against Boris Spassky. A few days before, Fischer had demanded the removal of some cameras that were disturbing him. The chairs would be X-rayed and samples of the furniture, the stage and the ambient sent to be analysed.

By reproducing the chairs from the images from the cameras, Maxime Bondu seeks to recover the image of the East / West confrontation and any possible interference present. He found such interference when printing out one of the images of the event – in a printing error.

The Deep War3 is a computing experiment designed in collaboration with Julien Griffit. Two Artificial Intelligences, operating autonomously, compete on a chess board. With a simple set of rules for the game, the AI systems evolve and develop according to their experience and their memory structure, leaving the field open to the generation of unknown or intuitive behaviours. Their learning capabilities place the experiment in a relationship to time, from which develop large possibilities develop.

Written in 1968 by Philip K. Dick, “Do Androids Dream of Electric Sheep?” describes a post-apocalyptic world. The story takes place in California and depicts a settler society in tension with omnipresent androids, more and more similar to humans, and gradually moving beyond the control of the latter. The powerful biotech company that produces them is called the Rosen Association4 and exercises lobbying pressure on the government to maintain the development of new and more “human” models. By asking Brent Martin, an architect based in Los Angeles, to produce construction plans for the headquarters and research centre of the Rosen Association, Maxime Bondu positions anticipation in a committed reality and places the work between a fictitious archive document and a speculative project dealing with the possible prefiguring of a realisation.



In 1952, Carl Jung recounts this story in ‘Synchronicity, an Acausal Connecting Principle’: “A young woman was at a critical time of processing a dream in which she received the gift of a golden scarab. While she was relating the dream to me, I was sitting with my back to the closed window. Suddenly I heard a noise behind me, like someone knocking lightly on the window. I turned and saw an insect flying against the window outside. I opened the window and caught the insect in flight. It offered the closest analogy that we can find at our latitude with the golden scarab. It was a chafer beetle, Cetonia aurata, the common rose chafer, which was clearly led, against all its habits, to enter a dark room just at that moment. I must say immediately that such a case has never happened to me before or after, so that the dream of my patient has remained unique in my experience. »

In 1972, Russel Targ co-founded the Stanford Research Institute’s investigation into psychic abilities for the CIA, where he did research on remote viewing.1

The same year, at the World Chess Championship, Bobby Fischer played against the Russian Boris Spassky. The Russians complained about the furniture brought by Fischer and the match was suspended.

In September 1980, Elisabeth Targ, Bobby Fischer’s niece, took part in an experiment2 in which she correctly predicted Reagan’s presidential victory in November.

In February 1996, Garry Kasparov played six games against the supercomputer Deep Blue3, developed by a team of IBM engineers, and lost the first game of the match, then won three and cancelled the others.

In 2019, the construction of the Rosen Association4 is completed.

On the right a horse, in the middle a horn, longer than I remember, the smell of acacia trees, a little further on a chair in silver wood and then the tracks of 3 planes in the sky over the street like that = /.

You know it’s like in a theatre of someone else’s memory, I’m moving in these images (or sculptures or texts, I don’t know any more) and I am confused, I let myself wander in or guide, absorb or melt into the elements, which are not images but a form that evokes something else. I try more or less to decipher all this, or I try to lose myself still further.

I remember Pierre-Damien Huyghe, for whom film begins here, when a sequence lasts just a little longer than it should to be representative of reality, and also the Letter of Eric Pauwels to Jean Rouch, in which a man awakens from a coma in a hospital, wonders where he is, where he has already seen people walk like this and says to himself, yes, it is the cinema.

Deduct the present by anticipation; remember a time that has not yet been lived; flash, slow motion, freeze frame; past, present, future.

Everything here recalls something else, refers to another temporality, a different situation. I let myself go to sail off in a state of semi-consciousness, in this time between sleep and wakefulness, in this in-between where dreams are no longer altogether dreams. I cross, engulfing a vase and an elephant, which could turn one into the other in a quantum theory I will not explain here … Everything is mixed, stories, anecdotes, portraits.

It’s like when you have itchy feet when I have wings that scratch, or as in The Man Who Mistook His Wife For A Hat, a phantom limb who remembers me or conversely the feeling that a part of my body is disembodied, has escaped and is following its own logic, simultaneously mine and another’s. Despite the inconsistency, this incessant intuition that this is connected, not in an unconscious but in a world that is conscious, sensitive (cosmogonical?), which could be a (panoptic) future. Casual connections.

Suddenly, a laugh, a cloud of golden scarabs appears.