Brian Eno’s ‘The Ship’ is unlike most art exhibits that you’ll visit in Buenos Aires. Located on the sixth floor of the Centro Cultural Kirchner (CCK), in sala 613, ‘The Ship’ beckons the viewer into a darkened room whose only source of illumination is a series of dim, colored lights. Upon entering, the throbbing musical rhythm emanating from the speakers is almost overpowering. People everywhere are sprawled out like starfish on a plush, comfortable carpet. Eno’s voice is a resonant purr that builds and crescendos into a roar; a roar that in turn fades into a soothing, calming lull — reduced to one out of many meticulously orchestrated sounds. Laying down, eyes focused on the ceiling, you feel the vibration of each note on a visceral level.

Inter-lapping wavelengths and frequencies belie the numerous influences present in Eno’s work; ‘The Ship,’ for example, takes the sinking of the Titanic as a conceptual starting point, while also drawing on World War I and humanity’s constant vacillation between excessive pride and paranoia. The combination of elements is uniquely Eno. Listening to the tide of sounds swirling around the room, it is quite easy to believe that one is floating on a ship.

’77 Million Paintings,’ located in ‘La Gran Lámpara,’ is a breathtaking space that is minimally decorated. Luminescent tree trunks are scattered like ghosts around the room, and rounded pyramid-cones glow with neon colors. The eye is immediately drawn to a cluster of mounted monitors, that project a seemingly endless stream images created by Eno himself from the wall. There is something darkly captivating and almost hypnotic about the changing forms and colors that dance on the monitor screens — something that is at once fantastic and slightly sinister, reminiscent of Guillermo del Toro film — that is highlighted by a haunting, ambient melody.

The beauty of ’77 Million Paintings’ lies in the fact that it is continuously evolving in real time. The combination of sound, color, and light that were experienced by viewers during the exhibit’s opening will not be the same as the ones experienced now. In fact, it is estimated that one would have to spend 450 years in front of Eno’s monitors and speakers before experiencing the same audio-visual combination twice.

By purposefully creating a living fusion of light and sound — one whose combinations will not be repeated in any human lifetime — Eno sends a clear message: This exact sequence will be gone in a second. Before you know it, the variables will have changed — so take a good look around you before this work of ephemeral art is gone. A powerful statement in a transient world, where each moment passes by so quickly.

‘The Ship’ and ’77 Million Paintings’ will re-open to the public on February 9th. The CCK is located at Sarmiento 151, and the exhibits are in sala 613 and the Grán Lámpara, respectively. Eno’s work can be viewed Thursdays through Sundays, from 1 to 8 PM — and according to the CCK’s website, will at least be up until the end of the month (February 28th).