“A thin veneer of immediate reality is spread over nature and artificial matter, and whoever wishes to remain in the now, with the now, on the now, should please not break its tension film. Otherwise the inexperienced miracle-worker will find himself no longer walking on water but descending upright among staring fish” (Vladimir Nabokov, 1972).

In his short novel Transparent Things (1972) Nabokov suggests that, unless we are careful, we sink into the history of things. Remaining fully in the present is difficult; it takes effort not to slip into reflection, memories, and the past. But in the museums and collections space things can often prove more resistant.