Space, energy, exoplanets
It is easy to imagine what one feels looking at the star-studded sky at night. Those many more or less luminous dots, some gathered into constellations, others scattered in a seemingly chaotic fashion, with intervals between them. But at exactly what distance? Nothing that can be on a human scale.
The starry sky is for many, initially, a very large projection space. We see it as a myriad of miniature light sources. In reality, each star is a planet, an asteroid, a celestial body large enough to potentially resemble our Earth. That is why people think – sometimes hope – that at least one of them is home to a life form close to ours.
In his time, the 17th century, Blaise Pascal (1623-1662) wrote: “The eternal silence of these infinite spaces frightens me” (Pensées – no. 91). His book, which was published posthumously in 1669, was at the intersection of different disciplines such as philosophy and the sciences. This citation shows a very great curiosity about the new territories to be explored. Through his questioning, the author appears, with our modern-day hindsight, as a precursor and activator. Of what exactly? Of the desire to know more about them.
At this period, the sky was an opaque surface, bits of which were perceptible and comprehensible. It was above us, worrying at night because it became a deep limitless black, even if this large quantity of small lights shone, lit to some extent, made it magical. The sky has become, over the centuries, a territory like any other, a place of narratives, projects and fantasies as well.
It is much less frightening because it has gradually become, in a certain way, within our reach. And this thanks to those thinkers of the past, to those adventurers of the exploration then the conquest of space, such as Blaise Pascal and many others.
The universe encompasses us through its proportions. Humanity cannot act against it and must manage this excessiveness. It does what it can. The “infinite spaces” undoubtedly continue to frighten us, but they fascinate us just as much. They contribute to the desire to pursue adventure, to plunge into the unknown. They indirectly give us courage and hope.
We observe the energy that the comets have, and we notice it when it spreads throughout space. By moving, the celestial bodies sow, water, scatter their content. They encourage us to look, to feel, to imagine and to see… including the new exoplanets.
Just like Zoritchak’s sculptures, apparently simple volumes with futuristic geometric forms. Objects that are in reality complex in which we like to lose ourselves and let ourselves be carried without any constraints, in weightlessness.