A woman is woken by a doorbell. When she gets up to answer it, there’s no one there. The next morning the entire house smells of sour milk. The hours pass.
The woman’s thoughts appear as subtitles on the screen. A voice attempts to simultaneously translate these subtitles into Swedish. The voice hesitates, stumbles and sometimes fails. The gaps between thoughts and words fill the empty rooms of a small house.
Six Years is the second in a series of Swedish language works by the artist. (Sleeping Car, 2000). For her, Swedish, a language she neither speaks nor understands has become an adopted language. It is a way to narrate a story and to distance oneself from that story. Speech becomes sound. Errors are made in the translation. Words which are always imprecise become more so. What remains is no coherent thought, no absolute or perfect text.