Photos on glass, 2020.
Boxes: photos printed on glass + printed and drawn text (graphite) on paper, 54.7 × 41.2 cm (21.5 × 16.2 in) and 41.2 × 61.2 cm (16.2 × 24.1 in).
Private collections, Belgium, France and Norway.
Behind photos of uncertain locations, short printed texts are hiding, themselves more or less supported or disturbed by drawn words scattered in the space, sometimes as if embedded in the picture. These texts are about the absence of beings or words, or of the power to act.
Exhibitions
I Dwell in Possibility, 2024. → view page
They used to sing, 2020. → view page
De sa visite prochaine, elle n'en avait pas dit un mot.
Mais on l'attendait toujours.
On se préparait à ce qu'elle réapparaisse,
presque miraculeusement,
ou plutôt, comme s'il était tout à fait naturel
qu'elle puisse soudain être là
après une si longue absence. Oui, une très longue absence.
(About her upcoming visit, she hadn't said a word.
But we were still waiting for her.
We were preparing for her to reappear,
almost as though miraculously,
or rather, as if it were only natural
that she could suddenly be with us
after such a long absence. Yes, a very long absence.)
Il ne faudra pas oublier de leur dire.
(Let’s not forget to tell them.)
Lorsque j'étais enfant,
je croyais qu'on ne pouvait utiliser chaque mot
qu'un certain nombre de fois,
puis qu'on en perdait l'usage.
Alors lentement, je les sélectionnais
et en usais avec parcimonie.
(When I was a child,
I believed that you couldn’t use any word
more than a certain number of times
and then lost their usage.
So, slowly, I selected them
and used them sparingly.)
Lorsque j'étais enfant.
Detail.
They left
They won't come back
I don't know what became of them
I don't even know where they went
We will never hear about them again.
Entry is one by one
Please await your turn patiently.
Where are you?
Can you hear me?