The CAPC's nave is plunged in darkness. A gigantic brass tubular structure straddles the space. Painted skies and retouched portraits hanging on wires are being as if launched into the void. The walls are covered with Brinjal. Tumblers play chess and children's puppets bang the metal tips of their shoes on the floor. A spiral Eiffel stairway links the floor and the ceiling, 45 feet high. Large hangings hide the architecture, a double mirror projection of the film Orient spins in a loop and looks at itself from a huge triangular bench which cuts the nave in four. A false ceiling with holes in it lets through a purplish light, while a figure on a suspended diving board vibrates with the variations of light. Welcome inside Markus Schinwald's mechanical theatre, a space made to measure for the CAPC's nave, which gropes as much as it traps. The publication pupblished by the CAPC reflects this physical and mental adventure through preparatory prints, film dialogues and stickers alternating exhibition views and reproduction of Schinwald's works.