For this exhibition, Frédéric de Goldschmidt and Grégory Lang have brought together a selection by more than 50 artists from the collection, each offering a different response to this question. Some works are fully present; others point to what is partial or evolving, or confront the idea that there may — or may not — be anything beyond.
On the ground floor, the focus is on minimal and geometric forms. The visual experience — rhythm, repetition, vibration — is sufficient in itself. Nothing needs to be explained or added. This is evident in the way light interacts with the surface of a reflective painting by Mary Corse, refracts across glass panels and mirrors by Nanda Vigo, or changes when the viewer moves in front of three works by Nadia Guerroui.
On the next two floors, what is shown may be a score, a fragment, a trace, or a stage within a larger process. An apparently monochrome painting by Ignasi Aballí or color patches assembled by Abraham Cruzvillegas, may hold a meaning that only the title reveals, both engaging with forms of indexing shared by many artists in the exhibition.
A half-filled aquarium by Anne Marie Maes evolves over time, as bacteria slowly transform its contents. A gesture may have already taken place, as in a sheet of paper hand-cut into diminishing pieces by Alighiero Boetti, or simply folded and carried in the back pocket of Kate Owens. Works by Franz Erhard Walter and Germaine Kruip only fully exist when activated by the viewer.
The question also extends beyond the works themselves and points to limits. The resources of our planet are not endless, as reflected in Otobong Nkanga’s woven work inspired by marine debris, or in Luciana Magno’s video showing an act of resistance along the Trans-Amazonian route. All forms of life and matter eventually decay and transform — whether in the domestic plant of Alicja Kwade or the cast iron body of Antony Gormley. An abstract evocation of the entrance to Paradise by Tacita Dean may, perhaps, offer a form of solace.
Is that all there is?
If that’s all there is, my friends, then let’s keep dancing
Let’s break out the booze and have a ball
If that’s all there is
Echoing the chorus of the song popularized by Peggy Lee, the exhibition concludes with a photograph by Julian Charrière of multicolored lights from a dystopian rave in a deserted palm oil plantation, alongside a bottle of gin by Joël Andrianomearisoa lying on the floor.
The exhibition reflects various facets of the collector’s vision, from his early interest in Minimal art and Arte Povera — with sculptures by Sol LeWitt, François Morellet and Alighiero Boetti,, and artists associated with the ZERO group such as Adolf Luther and Piero Manzoni — to key contemporary figures such as Antony Gormley, Tacita Dean, Rachel Whiteread, and Alicja Kwade.
It brings together a wide range of media, including large-scale photographs by Boris Mikhailov and Martin Désilets, videos by Guillaume Barth and Luciana Magno, and a work by Will Kerr using augmented reality.
The artists represented span multiple geographies, from Latin America (Abraham Cruzvillegas, Oscar Santillán, Gabriel Chaile) to Japan (Hideyuki Ishibashi) and South Africa (Bronwyn Katz).
The exhibition is dedicated to the memory of Jean-François Boclé (1971–2026), a dear friend of the collector, who passed away a few days after his performance at the closing of Cloud Seven’s previous exhibition. Is That All There Is? presents the outcome of two of his performances, reflecting on the role of banana plantations — and exploitation — in his native Martinique.