Imagine a single frame clipped from a reel of film, a minute celluloid image capturing a scene where an event has taken place or is just about to. Actors have not yet appeared, or perhaps have already left…it is uncertain whether there are actors at all. There is only an invitation to investigate deeper.
As we peer into the miniscule worlds of Dante Brebner’s dioramas, the image we’ve just envisioned unfolds three-dimensionally. Sculptural landscapes and interiors appear as miniature film sets tailored for peculiar dreams…no scripts have been written, scenarios remain ambiguous and unresolved. Here the artist does not tell a story, but only suggests that one exists. Once introduced, we are left to do all the navigating.
Concentrating through a matchbox sized window, we gaze into a compressed and layered space where features are hidden at far angles and odd spots…the scene cannot be read all at once, nor can it be read casually. Noticeable physical effort is required to observe the work. Stooping, moving back and forth, we adjust continuously around a tiny vantage point searching for unrevealed details.
It is during our conspicuous engagement and our imagined navigation through the ambiguous little settings that we are invited to put aside a solution to the artist’s work…to enter a kind of state where curiosity alone is given priority, where our own auras of association may be called forth. Synthesizing pathways deeper into these worlds, sharpening our perceptivity and patience, we sense our arrival at a precipice: We stare, we wonder and slowly realize that the artist who has taken us there has left us alone.