At first, the house is empty. It looks as if the furniture, the objects and the people that occupied it all left a long time ago. It is the house’s emptiness which evokes past time. For a moment we might imagine an absence of future: time evoked by its own absence. Then, the coal-black earth covering the floor reinstates the presence of time, simply by its way of filling the space. It seems to be moving, to penetrate and spread. Still, the temporality brought into existence by this earth is of another kind, a different type of temporality that permeates both the decoration of the walls and the stains that constellate them, but a temporality that remains confined to the space delimited by these same walls. The time of the earth bursts into the emptiness of the house, and we do not know if the earth will eventually bury the house or if, on the contrary, the house will manage to overcome the earth. On the walls of the gallery, the collages are – maybe, anyway – clues. Dry, dead branches, serve as supports for white cotton flowers, pollen that the wind scatters and that gets entangled in the branches. Materials, limits, emptiness and movement are constantly evoked in the work of Sara Ramo, in her work on the different ways of inhabiting space and the different temporalities induced or expressed by different ways of life. Thus, in Hansel and Gretel’s House, an installation made by the artist for the 53rd Venice Biennale, the languid temps of a deserted field appearing on a monitor in an empty room, the wild and measureless time of balls bouncing along walls, and the time of those stones spat out by an old stove, afforded excess to other ways of living and understanding space, to telling stories and entering the world of tales. In the same way, De passage invites us to travel through space-times that, although deemed dead, have their own movement.