02Small hours
Elias Rook
The city doesn’t sleep. It changes hands.

A body crosses a room. Light takes a little longer to leave. Mara Venn stretches the instant between seeing and remembering into an exhibition of colour, movement and uncertain edges.
Venn begins with a simple arrangement: a room, a moving body and a single source of light. Exposures last long enough for the figure to become a trace. The architecture remains exact; the person passing through it refuses to settle. Vermilion pools against blue, and the floor becomes a second, less reliable picture.
Across three sequences, the exhibition moves from recognisable gestures to near abstraction. Small contact studies sit alongside wall-sized images, allowing a change in scale to become a change in attention. The work asks how much of a person a photograph can hold—and what a picture gains when it gives up describing them.
The final room slows the sequence to a single image. Stay with it. The colours you carry out may be different from the ones you first saw.
Look at the floor before the figure. Where does a reflection stop being a record and start becoming its own event?
Mostly low, even lighting. One still image is shown in a darker room; no flashing or moving light. Large-print gallery text and a seated viewing point are available.
“I want the photograph to remember something the room has already forgotten.”Mara Venn