TROIS QUATRE – JOUSSE
Three is the ternary rhythm of dissonance, disorder, acceleration. To these words artists don’t answer.
Nothing jars, no outward violence.
It took a quartet then, of time round and long.
The number four is bound by balance, imposes suppleness and seasons. For don’t we say three, four before the choir’s first beat?
A fourth performer is the exhibition’s natural guest,
she is the works’ roots and the substance enlacing them. Clément, Julia, Victoire and Atmosphere.
Four beings who hang measure on time.
In the foreground, therefore,
the living in all their materials.
In mute transaction with the landscapes without judgement Clément Borderie records the discreet absorption of the years
that spit their ages on window blinds
or leave their marks on docile matrices. He’ll wait for the time it takes,
the time that exceeds and evades us
the time that undoes all our certainties.
Light sometimes invites itself
through windows identical in proportion
to Julia Rometti’s canvases.
Behind the still flat tint of sand and bone, edges fade in reflections. In front, seashells rise to the surface of several millennia
when Paris was ocean and the ocean alone on Earth.
Piece by piece, stone by stone,
the works hailed to the anonymity of ancestors: flesh land sea.
To protect the foundations,
wishes are melted into thistles.
Victoire Inchauspé’s sculptures are smitten
with fragile existences and strong molts like a petrified mimosa awaiting spring,
like a stunned stag antlerless in winter,
like all life fulfilled in a handful of dust.
Atmosphere strikes the first note. A minim Incandescent light and false-friend silence
motors, footsteps, bursts of voices, humming fragments of Paris’s lament. Atmosphere suspends the shadows that make works, bodies and feelings
exist by detachment.
The shared melody is in tune.
Three, four.
Anne Bourrassé, translated by Sean Mark