The nail salon across from my house looks like a film or theatre set, the kind I like: an image of a forest covers one wall and serves as a backdrop. The image sits on the partition separating the nail salon from thebarbershop; both spaces share the same storefront. I like to think that, while they are having their hair cut, the men hear the gossip from the other space, and vice versa.

In another space I often return to, a large photograph of Tower Bridge covers an entire wall.The wall is in London, but the image keeps reminding us that the bridge is not far, that on our day off we could go there, if we wished.

The photograph marks the entrance to this exhibition: a threshold to be crossed in order to enter what ispresented as a backstage area. Usually hidden, this backstage becomes a place where time seems to standstill, as if something were about to happen but has not yet decided to take place.

Perhaps the objects and images on display inhabit that place. Between what we want to see and what is hidden, we squint our eyes to try to see more clearly. As we look through the dots and behind the curtains, we begin to perceive what previously seemed elusive.

In that attempt, the body also adjusts, as if we were about to utter a phrase in our second language, or as if we were about to get into character.