The Sleeping Girl
A sailing boat is cruising into the wind. The camera detaches itself from the scenery to enlarge the field of vision and pans over a suburb tinged in faded light: a still life of white fences, all absolutely identical, little green lawns and red gabled roofs – just as much models as the miniature schooner. The tranquil progress of the camera over the raster of stereotyped detached and terrace houses presents an artificial idyll dominated by exclusions and norms. Life is only lived here on the soundtrack: wind, bird calls, the sound of a motor muttering in the distance, the noise made by a piece of wheeled luggage being dragged, then a telephone interminably ringing.
