“There is a species on Earth where the cub emerges from the womb and is taken by the hind legs, held upside down and beaten by an adult until it cries.” C. Rochefort, Les enfants d’abord (1976)

What do newborns see in their very first moments? What do they feel? What does the world look like from inside a plastic cradle, under fluorescent lights, surrounded by the cries of other babies — when just hours before, everything was warmth, rhythm, and the sound of a heartbeat?

These are the questions at the heart of Alpha — an immersive exhibition born from the encounter of women artists across disciplines: visual art, photography, dance, sound, and video.

Born in 2020 from the personal reflection of Belgian artist Juliette Wayenberg on the first hours of newborns sent to the hospital nursery after birth, the project gradually grew into a rich collaborative endeavor. Juliette and Pamela Piscicelli became the co-curators, bringing together a group of artists with diverse backgrounds and sensibilities: French choreographer Jessica Bonamy, French artist Hannah Thual, and Italian photographer Stéphanie Gengotti, whose intense, delicate portraits of mothers weave a thread of quiet tenderness throughout the work.

The images presented here are just a fragment of a much wider body of work — an ongoing exploration that continues to evolve and expand.

The first hours of life are among the most intense a human being will ever experience, yet they are rarely given space for reflection. Modern birth, for all its medical advances, has sometimes moved away from the emotional and sensory needs of both mother and child. 

Alpha — the first letter, the first moment, the first breath. In neuroscience, alpha also refers to a gently altered state of consciousness: the world of dreams, of children, of deep presence. It is that threshold state we are inviting you to revisit.

Because some stories begin before words do.