A group of people who do not know one another, but are united in a common purpose -- possibly waiting for a bus -- stand together in a tightly cropped long shot. One is reading a book, another is listening to music through headphones. There are the young and old; whites, blacks, Hispanics and Asians; businessmen, construction workers and a tall guy with an athletic singlet and a headband -- the sort of cross section of people you'd find in adverts for the lottery or McDonald's, but almost never encounters in actual life. (Perhaps it's the bus for Political Correctness City?) They stand in front of a tan-colored photographer's muslin backcloth.

These are the characters in Bill Viola's video installation "The Raft" (2004). The piece is shot on 35-mm film in such ultra slow motion that, on playback, a physical movement which would take a few seconds in real-time is stretched out to almost a minute. As characters arrive, their entrances send subtle ripples of reaction through the assembled others. A professorial-looking middle-aged man in a tweed jacket makes his way to the front and center, his disregard for the others drawing a number of disapproving sideways glances. This dissection of modern urban territorial behavior develops quite nicely until suddenly, and wholly unexpectedly, a tremendous deluge of water drenches the group, knocking several of the characters to the ground. Afterward, they all look around in bewilderment, then slowly recompose, reaching out and comforting one another.

"The Raft" is one of seven room-filling video installations and eight flat-screen TV pieces that comprise "Hatsu-Yume (First Dream)," the most comprehensive retrospective of Viola's work ever presented in Asia. The exhibition traces his development from 1981 to date, and is complemented by a screening of "Bill Viola: Video Works" at the ICC Theater in Shinjuku, which features 30 of the American artist's video works from 1975 to 1994.