Celle qui a tourné dix mille fois sept fois sa langue dans sa bouche avant de ne pas parler, ou elle en est morte, ou elle connaît sa langue et sa bouche mieux que tous
The two variations evoke a country, Vainoki, inhabited solely by women and ruled by the queen Hina. These women mate with the aerial roots of the Pandanus odoratissimus, of which the youngest, free, turn toward the ground. Girls alone are born into the world. — Serge Dunis
Hina submerges her aging body in the water. Skin and hair float to the surface; she sheds. In order to regain her vitality, Hina exposes herself extensively to the sun. It’s from this idea of the regenerative power of light that the project takes its inspiration. The women wearing white bodysuits in the exposition space take care of the room, of the architecture, and of the materials that it is made up of. They are the guardians, acting through their gestures, emitting soothing sounds broken occasionally by sharp cries, creating a rhythm that hypnotizes the spectator.
An illuminated sculpture is the center of the room. A weaving is imprisoned by a layer of transparent resin, it reacts to the light. It dazzles us, attracts us. The room’s guardians are its tributaries; when they exchange a mask it is as if it was just born, they seem to pull our attention again to the sculpture-mother.
Installation composed of one sculpture (350 × 240 m, copper, resin, pigments, neon tubes), a video, one sound work, and one performance.
Exhibition views of Rendez-vous 2017, Biennale de Lyon, IAC, Villeurbanne and Galerie Nomades 2016, GAC, Annonay.
Performance: Anna Gaïotti, Laura Giacomini, Lotus Edde-Khouri et Catherine Touzeau
Sound: Raffaele Grimaldi
Video: Antoine Waterkeyn
Pictures: Blaise Adilon
She simply passes between these two poles of energy, copper, and electrodes, in a process of regeneration. The air is electrified between these conductor-bodies. She doesn’t look at us. They feel at home and we are spectators.