Marta
Di Francesco


Poetics with code








Janus



Single channel video
2:45 min

Umanismo Digital XVIII International FESTIVAL DE LA IMAGEN,
Centro cultural Rogelio Salmona, Manizales, Colombia 2019
MANA Contemporary Chicago 2019
MANA Contemporary Jersey City 2019
MANA Contemporary Miami 2019
CODAME ART+TECH Festival, San Francisco 2018
FILE Festival Exhibition, SESI Gallery of Art, Sao Paulo Brazil 2018
Barbican Interfaces, London 2017



A project with two faces: a volumetric video and a VR experience.

In ancient Roman religion and mythology, Janus (/ˈdʒeɪnəs/; Latin: Ianus, pronounced [ˈjaː.nus]) is the god of beginnings, gates, transitions, time, doorways,[1] passages, and endings. He is usually depicted as having two faces, since he looks to the future and to the past.

Janus is a poetic piece, inspired by the two-faced ancient god of time, that explores time liminality, as past and future face each other.

Janus is the god of beginnings, gates, transitions, time and doorways and his mastership of time presides over concrete and abstract beginnings of the world. We are in times of political, economical and social transformation and existential unrest is inevitable.
The concept of liminality is relevant, as transition is often accompanied by loss of identity and a deep sense of presence is necessary to understand this moment and be able to take action in response to it.
We are at the threshold of a new era that will be defined by our ability to learn from the past in order to move forward into the future.
The future is made by the same thread that controls the past. They are connected and interwoven with each other.
Memory is key for the past not to repeat itself. In these times, when a worrying resurgence of nationalism and rising populism emerge, it is key to reflect on the lessons learned from the past, to prevent history repeating itself.


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Time doesn’t exist in dreams.
Time is an ocean only expert sailors can navigate.
Many crash under its wave.

Rattling moments, like dead leaves, scattered by the wind.
Looking back — not always real, not always fixed.
Looking ahead — dilated, repetitive.

Past and Future. All around, nothing but a sordid hollow sound, a deaf dark void.

Our life, an overarching story made by fragments of small stories, and inside these, smaller stories still, that in turn are woven together by infinitely small moments.

We are made of all these dots in time, in a continuous flow, where the shape and line of these memories change, fade and reappear in a different form, under a different light.

What if we are simply made up of our memories?
Then time would be space.
And as we move through it, our being is made, a thread knit by moments.
Fragments, whose reflections echo and resonate in others.

Because what are stories, if not lines that come from the stretch of a dot in time.
They morph, they fade, and yet in a moment, they are gone.