In Gaze in Motion, Berger explores the tension between monumental solidity and subtle disturbance. The upright sculpture, carved from green marble, resembles a fragment of geological time – streaked with veins, fractures and shifts in color.
The surface reveals strong contrasts: some areas are finely polished, others left raw and untouched. The transitions appear worn, almost as if shaped through erosion or the slow abrasion of time.
The inlaid alabaster spheres amplify this effect. They seem like foreign bodies, eerily embedded – as if the stone itself had secreted something that doesn’t belong. A surreal moment arises: the perfect geometry of the spheres collides with the marble’s organic irregularity. Something begins to emerge – not clearly, but insistently.
The contrast between the dark stone and the translucent alabaster allows the form to shift between object, sign, and vessel of meaning. As in many of Berger’s works, a quiet tension unfolds between natural form and intervention, between what was and what was imagined.