Leif Trenkler captures magical moments in his images, and their magic lies in their being recognizable exactly as that: as moments. As the smallest elements of a path without beginning or end. Only moments, we have nothing more. Neuroscientists have calculated that we experience the 'now' for three seconds, then the world is submerged into the past. For Trenkler this takes place much more quickly. Rockets shoot out of the dust of a grey infinity as if they were chiselled in stone, and what length of time could be defined narrowly enough to fix a red canary so rigidly in the present as Trenkler does in his ten-meter-wide panorama in Hyde Park? Seeing it in this way is shocking: it is all over so fast. The beat of a wing, an afternoon (the shadows are already growing long), a summer (the leaves are already turning), a childhood, life. Nothing has been and nothing will be. No story, no purpose, only shimmering light and illusion.