In the beginning was the material.
Thomas Collet shares a pointillist layer material of 5000 pieces. An installation synonymous with undulation of 5,000 monotypes … for three capital letters. And several versions according to stops, breaks, desires, invitations, places. Juxtaposed shades and shades socializing, taming each other as if to confront each other in turn at the discretion of spots oscillating between hazardous, accidental focus and unacknowledged melancholy sombritude. Investing Le Verso (in Saint-Etienne), a theater with exposed stones playing with an imbalance of predicted fall, and where bleachers and seats offer to see different dives and catches to embrace, as if to catch fire. The artist thus constantly returning to the work like the unfortunate weaver that no one, or nothing, can enshrine.
Like a Bacon opus (without windows) but which calls the reader / spectator to look at themselves and to confront the orchestrator. Or when the equinox and the tides beg Ahab to face his dark parts and his monstrous destiny. The light here plays a tenuous role and wants to be enveloping … but what a declamation within the lines of this labyrinth of coruscations! Switch then and let go to synesthesia … with or without music, with or without color (s), with or without words … with or without paper. A colorimetry that is not very perceptible at first glance, but taking shape before our eyes unaccustomed to envisioning (or probably to de-vising?) a facial piece and a multiple architecture whose tiny details take on meaning in their entirety. This is the disturbing strangeness of the play that we are allowed to apprehend.
Not to conclude.
An undisclosed Pérec vowel, or as many unique prints prevail over the letters of a Deleuzian alphabet fomenting and punctuating the experience of a thought at work. We would then have to create thousands of letters like so many scopic drives or even neural threads … When narration and theatricality open a dialogue, correspond or even hypnotize, we then watch for a quest for meaning, sensations, and affect. And the fact of trying to cling to any sketch, hook or frame of plastic reminiscence. However, we cannot fight in the face of the sensitive retinal persistence which will in no way subside when we close our eyes … Beauty and rarity without concession.
Isabelle Rochais / July 2020