This film essentially consists of one continuous shot taken from the train window during its stop in the station of Metz, France. By way of prelude, … AND opens with a fixed camera shot, a straight, razor-sharp positioning - an image of cars driving in the city. Then, we dive into the film by way of a traveling shot from the window of the train. As if we were train passengers we enter the station with decreasing speed and the train slowly comes to a stop. While the train’s presence is highly perceptible yet not visible, the viewer turns into a voyeur in regard to the people on the platform. The man sitting on the bench eating a sandwich and the one who is dozing next to him seem to be totally unaware of the camera. There is no artificial lighting or effects in … AND. While the train is slowing down, the scene on the platform lightens up; it is followed by a surprising play of shadows during the time of the stop, with the sudden occurrence of a nearly total darkness by the time the train leaves again. Nothing of this has been planned, all results from natural light and weather conditions. Through these coincidences, the work gets a poetic overtone.