In a room bathed in blue, time is reduced to the ticking of a clock. Fish Tank creates a suspended world, where fashion becomes a form of isolation and the body moves within a setting that seems to be observing it.
The protagonist wears a black ensemble: a sheer blouse, adorned with sculptural ruffles, minimalist boots and a metallic ear cuff with organic shapes. Seated on a curved glass armchair, she appears almost suspended in space. The transparency of the furniture evokes the work of Cini Boeri and Shiro Kuramata, but here it also serves a narrative function: it blurs the boundary between body, object and environment.
In the centre of the room, an aquarium houses a goldfish and a small replica of the same armchair. The scene is repeated on a smaller scale and the gaze shifts direction: who is observing whom? The fish swims across the tank, whilst the human figure remains confined to its own universe, exposed to the gaze of the viewer. The distortion of scale evokes the imagery of René Magritte; the tank, on the other hand, transforms the domestic space into a display case.
The details — the fingers tracing the curves of the glass, the eyes filtered through the water, the controlled posture — reveal a tension between intimacy and representation. In Fish Tank, the dress is not merely an ornament: it becomes a barrier, a way of inhabiting one’s own image whilst everything around invites the viewer to look.