«démultiplication (non plus une voix mais des voix),» a «politique des voix,» which allows the voices as voix in to invade the visual material and to emerge as a visual doppelgänger; as the voix out, it stages its physical exile or repulse (like vocal pornography), and as the voix through, it disconnects the image from bodies and mouths.[23] In Marker's work, there are countless examples of this kind of deconstructive désacusmatisation, in the sense that the acousmêtre is contrasted to deficient incarnations or better said, in the sense that voices are removed from the dominant dialectic of off/on, detached in general from the physical beings in which they are supposed be realized. Instead, voices circulate freely within the image, as objects among other objects. Films such as «Le fond de l'air est rouge» play with the figure of the «talking head,» ironically dissecting the rhetorical strategies of populist speakers such as Fidel Castro. In a chain of repetitions, Castro is always shown in the same situation, speaking to the people, surrounded by a forest of phallic microphones, fiddling with the movable part of the microphone during the applause. However, when we see the scene in Moscow, where

the microphones are immobile, the speaker, irritated and in disbelief, begins to stammer, even threatens to fall silent, and his voice literally breaks on the structure of the speech. What then is left for Chris Marker's acousmatic strategy to accomplish? A preliminary answer to this implicitly asked question might perhaps be that Marker is constructing the acousmetric position, the absolute signifier of a particular acousmaître, a position of a certain absolute knowledge only to destroy, caricature, and in this sense, to disacousmatize it, to expose it in a game of concealments and revelations. He does the same with himself, appearing as various doppelgängers such as cats and owls pseudodéscusmatisations and in the partial revelation in Wim Wenders' film «Tokyo-Ga».