The contemplative serenity Antoinette Zwirchmayr creates in House and Universe is offset by notions of restlessness and unease, that the images of a dormant, naked young woman – alter- natingly shown in a sparse, bright motel room and the blooming desert landscape outside – provide. Shown only in fragments, the sleeper seems blissfully unconnected to her surroundings. Tinged in warm sunlight, yet subtly charged with associations of isolation and vulnerability, the film presents a dreamlike, almost hallucinogenic portrayal of a person in a state of transcendence.