One person

It is said that the bar must be set high. Therefore, the bars are high. But then they say that they are too high, that we need to set more realistic goals. Only Louis, the master of balance whose absence is sorely felt, would know what the right balance is.

Merry Christmas

This is a Greco-Roman exhibition. Once again!

Merry Christmas

Those who say that we see nothing or that we don't see well, confirm that we rarely see everything (in life in general).

Merry Christmas

The nuances of our experience are confiscated. Here go the nuances, to the dungeon! All that's left are the broad strokes. The big guns. There is no need to look for them. We know where to find them anyway.

Merry Christmas

This exhibition is a petition for the liberation of details and nuances, unjustly imprisoned nowadays. Already fifty signatures!

Merry Christmas

This is history painting. It is a large canvas, with an allegorical theme.

Merry Christmas

The style is tired pop art. It is a sub-category of pop art that is still in its infancy, but will soon take over the world.

Merry Christmas

There is always a battle. Here, it is a battle between two regimes of images (two regimes of bananas, one might say). The register of a thesis on the world, and the register of an experience of the world. In the end, it is the register of the thesis about the world that wins. It is always the banana that wins.

Merry Christmas

The only thing missing from this exhibition, as from our banana tree and our work, is the fruit. Be patient!

Merry Christmas

As you can see, there is something for everyone. You just need a big wallet, because not everything fits in a pocket. They all fit in my living room though. If I can do it, you can do it!

Merry Christmas

The banana tree had its say. He stayed throughout the assembly. He gave advice, even when he was silent. He is a promising apprentice curator (who is progressing under Pauline and Rokko's kind supervision).

Merry Christmas

The banana tree said: it must bend. The world is bending under the weight of something, so bend! Look, don't I bend?

Merry Christmas

As the exhibition engages the verb "to bend", in its conjugations of weight, one wonders if it is not Atlas who is invited to the dinner table this evening. This is a change from Damocles and Sisyphus. Those spades!

Merry Christmas

We know more or less when this exhibition started. Well, it started when we felt concerned. Because before that, the story had already started elsewhere, without us really feeling concerned. The good thing is that it also works the other way round: we know more or less when this exhibition ended. It ends when you decide not to be concerned anymore. It's as simple as that.

Merry Christmas

We know more or less when this exhibition started. Well, it started when we felt concerned. Because before that, the story had already started somewhere else, without us really feeling concerned. The good thing is that it also works the other way round: we know more or less when this exhibition ended. It ends when you decide not to be concerned anymore. It's as simple as that.

Merry Christmas

This is an exhibition inspired by the Mexican game of hitting a papier-mâché figure with a stick to break it open and drop the contents. Except that here you don't get a stick. You have to hit with your eyes. And it is up to you to imagine what falls from the suspended figures. It's definitely a lot of work! I'm not sure the Mexicans like this version. Let's talk to the embassy. By the way, this is also an exhibition inspired by the embassy. Of any embassy.

Merry Christmas

I have an American friend called Noël B. who is invited to the opening, but I want to say that this exhibition has nothing to do with her. I mean, Noël can certainly come and see this exhibition. I'd like to see it. But the exhibition (in which there are, however, things to see) is not her business, although she can look at it. That it is even my pleasure to have her look at it. Notwithstanding a similar friendship, there is no connection to be made with someone called C. Noël. The name 'Christmas in general', on the other hand, is concerned. Not General Christmas (who probably existed). But Christmas in general. Which, in general, in the West at least, does exist. Even if they try to make you believe that it doesn't exist.

Merry Christmas

If you are told that Father Christmas doesn't exist, don't believe a word of it. The proof is this very word you have in your hand. And all the other words above your heads.

Merry Christmas

Christmas willing, there is a turkey. Even a turkey. "The artist is cannon fodder," says Delmotte.

Merry Christmas

This exhibition eats from all racks: that is its democracy. What shall I say, its humanism!

Merry Christmas

Damocles, Damocles... What was his story again? We learn that the story of his hanging sword is said to have appeared in one of the volumes (now lost, it begins well) of the "Histories" of the Greek historian Timaeus of Tauromenion. Then Cicero (that opportunist) is said to have read a version of this story (it is no longer clear whether it is Timaeus' or not) in Diodorus of Sicily's "Historical Library". He then popularised it in his Tusculanae disputationes. There always has to be a Cicero to pick up the tab for the people's expenses. A great sign. We only lend to the rich!

Merry Christmas

The Point Point festival is an artistic festival by the association FAIRE DE RIEN which proposes to invest the city of Avranches in Normandy, like an open-air museum. 23 artists have been invited to create works that integrate into the public space and play on their degree of visibility by exploiting the diversity of the urban landscape.

"Pieces of Brussels", 2022, is the proposal formulated in this context. Stampings of details of the city of Brussels are made in clay: fragments of architecture, street furniture, commemorative plaques, cars. These sculptures are then baked and enamelled, and brought to Avranches to be scattered in the public space in a manner that is sometimes ostentatious, sometimes discreet, even secret. About fifty pieces are installed in a 127.5m radius around the Tourist Office, playing with their confrontation with the elements and signs present on site. Is it the conquest of a territory or the timid landmarks we establish when we set foot in unknown territory? Is it an act of affirming an identity or of dissolving it? Is it the ghost of one city in the flesh of another? Is it the mirror of one city in another, since cities are so similar today? Is it a memory, a trace, a historical decoy? Is it a survey, a magical deviation of the flow that irrigates these places? After the end of the festival, the ceramics remain on site, subject to their archaeological fate. 

Cluj | Roma | حلب | Roma | Bamako | Roma | ⵜⵉⴳⵎⵎⵉ ⵜⵓⵎⵍⵉⵍ ⵜ | Roma  | تهران  | Roma | Priština | Roma | ⴹⵊⴻⵍⴼⴰ | Roma | Kolwezi | Roma | Kigali | Roma | الإسكندرية | Roma | El Alto | Roma | Fortaleza | Roma  | Łódź | Roma | Lima | Roma | Gduńsk | Roma | کراچی | Roma | Pikine | Roma | București| Roma | تونس | Roma | İstanbul | Roma | کابل | Roma | Kisásá | Roma | مُرَاكُش | Roma | الرباط  | Roma

Cluj >< Roma >< حلب ><  Roma >< Bamako >< Roma >< ⵜⵉⴳⵎⵎⵉ ⵜⵓⵎⵍⵉⵍ ⵜ >< Roma  >< تهران  >< Roma >< Priština ><| Roma | ⴹⵊⴻⵍⴼⴰ >< Roma >< Kolwezi >< Roma >< Kigali >< Roma >< الإسكندرية >< Roma ><  El Alto >< Roma >< Fortaleza >< Roma >< Łódź >< Roma ><  Lima >< Roma >< Gduńsk >< Roma >< کراچی >< Roma >< Pikine >< Roma >< București>< Roma >< تونس >< Roma >< İstanbul >< Roma >< کابل >< Roma >< Kisásá >< Roma >< مُرَاكُش >< Roma >< الرباط  >< Roma

Cluj – Roma – حلب – Roma – Bamako – Roma – ⵜⵉⴳⵎⵎⵉ ⵜⵓⵎⵍⵉⵍ ⵜ –Roma  – تهران  – Roma – Priština – Roma –  ⴹⵊⴻⵍⴼⴰ – Roma – Kolwezi – Roma –Kigali – Roma – الإسكندرية – Roma – El Alto –  Roma – Fortaleza – Roma – Łódź – Roma – Lima – Roma – Gduńsk – Roma – کراچی – Roma – Pikine – Roma –  București– Roma –تونس – Roma – İstanbul – Roma – کابل – Roma – Kisásá – Roma – مُرَاكُش – Roma –الرباط  –Roma

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For the second version of the exhibition curated by Pauline Hatzigeorgiou, dedicated to transmission, education, we pay interest to details of primary school archives, from the 1990's. Exercices, notes by the teachers in the margin of copies, monumental texts on childhood (Le Petit Prince, from Antoine de Saint-Exupéry, or a poem  by Rimbaud), creativity of the children facing the indications given by the teachers... Written traces produced in the framework of the school express two visions of the world, from the children on one side, from the adults on the other side. Both try to understand each other, in often comic confrontations. The teacher tries to speak the language of the child, the child does his/her best to imitate the language of adults. Everything happens in a funny mix of good will, ingenuity, naivity, morality, and misunderstandings. 

My first idea for the title of this exhibition was "Let's be realists!", in an almost ecstatic, almost hysterical reference to Emile Zola, Emmanuel Macron, La Repubblica... But later, while I was browsing through the amazing creative production of my fellow artist Osanne Gevart, of 6 years old, whom I had invited to participate in this exhibition with me as a duo, I stopped in front of a drawing, or maybe two drawings, made on the double page of a notebook. The lower part of this diptych represented, she told me, an ice cream vendor. While the upper part evoked the world, even an onion. I found myself taken of enthusiasm! It was there the realism! I immediately injected myself two doses of it. I mean: I immediately ordered two scoops. With already a contained desire for a third.