In his film HyperNormalisation (2016), filmmaker Adam Curtis proposes a troubling idea: faced with the growing complexity of the real world, political, media and technological elites gradually replaced it with a simplified, artificial version, easier to manage and easier to inhabit. A stable collective fiction that we eventually accept as reality itself.

In such a landscape, the question is no longer simply what we see, but how reality is staged for us. The infrastructures of images, screens, networks, algorithms, immersive devices, do not merely represent the world; they increasingly organize the conditions through which it appears to us.

Today, seeing has become a flow. A stream of images passing through our retinas like a continuous current. Glasses, sensors, cameras. Everywhere, the promise of augmented vision. See further. See faster. See everything. Engineers speak of immersion as a conquest, an expansion of the visible.

But as the world becomes calculable, simulatable, capturable, something begins to blur. A diffuse fatigue. A saturation of the gaze. And so a strange hypothesis begins to emerge: what if lucidity no longer came from increasing vision, but from interrupting it?

The Sutherland test was born from this fragile intuition. Not as a spectacle, nor as a new technology, but as a protocol. A modest ritual in which participants explore the possibility of voluntary blindness, a collective suspension of vision as a way to question the authority of images and the narratives embedded in the devices that produce them.