Autumn issue « Un coup de dés

Un coup de dés

Topography of the unspeakable

The Chapelle Saint-Jacques, located south-west of Toulouse, is halfway between the rural and urban worlds. From this in-between, two inclinations arise: to observe and to question. The intersecting perspectives of Valérie Mréjen, Géraldine Lay and François Deladerrière emphasise the radiant and the burning; warm breath, biting cold. Their images and words, placed on fragments of territory, give pride of place to that interstice where doubts and questions reside. The story thus exhibited follows the fragile contours of a wait favourable to experimentation. The centre d’art seen as a fiction at the heart of a reality, that of a changing territory.

read

Between 8 and 11

He had hurried to get there, hoping that the electrician would be on time and would stop by at the beginning of the indicated time slot. It seemed quite appropriate to him that, on the list of accommodations he had to visit on this long autumn morning, the employee working that particular morning on the connecting of electricity meters should start at his address. If things followed in the order he had predicted, he would have time to go shopping at the do-it-yourself department as soon as the man got into his car and started to drive away. He expected to arrive for the opening of the department store to avoid waiting, then come back with his purchases and start working. It seemed necessary to fix a few things before settling in this place that hadn’t been lived in for several weeks. He had been on the spot for half an hour, the time, he thought, for the man at the wheel of his vehicle to cross over a little forest following the winding road whose course looked like the body of a snake, and at the moment he looked at his watch, he had thought of particular place along the way, near the end of the road, where there was an abandoned sawmill: the man had surely gone passed it, and in a minute or so the sound of tyres on gravel would be heard. An employee of the electricity company surely knew all the ways around and would soon be there.
In the entrance to the flat, also entirely empty, he hadn’t found a nail to hang the key and had kept the bunch of keys in his pocket, which reinforced his impression of being ready to leave. Straight after coming through the door, he realized that in the haste of his departure he had forgotten to bring something to read. He went out into the garden after ringing the bell once or twice to be sure it could heard from the outside. He thought that for such a short time it wouldn’t be worth opening the parasol or sitting on a chair. The sky did not indeed incite one to relax, and without the slightest document to consult, even absent-mindedly, such as a free newspaper or a brochure that could have been left there since a month to fill up a hole somewhere, he couldn’t even devote himself to the absurd occupation of studying ads in detail or flyers for take-away restaurants, simply in order to have something to do. In front of the dirty wall, he said to himself that it would have to be painted.
Some children must have been helped by adults to make a cabin, but the objects and toys they had disposed there to imitate domestic life had also disappeared, and there were no more faded baby dolls or buckets half-filled with water, or balls of sponge to knead or bounce: he started to foresee the possibility of waiting a bit longer, or even spending part of the morning wandering from one room to the other just to see that nothing had changed, while overly studying the few signs left by the precedent occupants. He had difficulty in imagining the parties that must have been held there and the evenings by the fire, the groups of people assembled together, friends, undoubtedly, parents, and colleagues. Someone warmed up by alcohol had forgotten his jacket: it had remained hanging far from anyone’s view while its owner kept on asking himself, and this thought must have come across him like a sudden high temperature, where it could very well be. Only the disco ball could have recorded what had happened and remembered the vision of faces that were more or less shining with sweat, the enflamed looks and the last bursts of energy of a little group that kept on dancing in a circle while the other guests had already started to go home. The object posed on the ground seemed to look at him, wondering if it could be used again, once the electricity was put back on. The man didn’t really know what to do with the disco ball. He could have hung it on the ceiling, but he already knew someone who had one at his place and he could imagine the little smile that it would provoke during the first visits of their mutual friends.
But what was that technician doing. It was always the same thing. They indicate a time slot and only arrive at the last minute, when people have lost their patience.

Valérie Mréjen. May 2013
Traduction by Emmelene Landon

 


Click on the image to launch the slide show

 

Further reading:
La Chapelle Saint-Jacques
Valérie Mréjen
Géraldine Lay
François Deladerrière

 

×

EDITO

FORMS OF DISTANCE

Certain recent circumstances have led me to deal with the concepts of scale and distance. The former thought in methodological terms, the latter in moral terms, both from a historiographical point of view. As a curator, I have been involved in the research of topics linked to colonial histories that call for a constant reconsideration of where one is positioned, and from where one is speaking. Furthermore, a project (exhibition or else) is not autonomous from its conditions of production and reception and one cannot sublimate it from its contextual existence. The issue of distance becomes then crucial, but also its artificial sibling, distantiation (in Brechtian terms), which is perhaps needed as a form of translation and relation to reality.

Reading through the wealth of approaches represented in uncoupdedés.net and its celebration of institutional decentralisation experienced in France, I thought it would be useful reconsidering the implication of scale -or rather shifts scale – and distance in the production of contemporary art or in the way we think about art as a means to approach reality. Of course, I am not talking about this in absolute, all-encompassing terms, but rather as a way of offering a nuanced reading of how a decentralised network, to which uncoupdedés.net offers a visible existence, shows the relevance of these many ways of operating at different scales in the geopolitical entity called mainland France. In a way, all this has to do with what now seems a hackneyed expression: the production of knowledge.

Edouard Sautai’s collaboration with the Centre d’Art et Photographie de Lectoure offers an immediate consideration of the implication of a change of scale. By evoking flying, a situation that allows to see a reality at a particular level of detail, but also the making of models as another way of representing this reality at a different scale, Sautai reminded me of Bernard Lepetit’s considerations about the dialectic relationship, and constant oscillation between the micro and the macro. For Lepetit the fabrication of a model “does not distinguish between the different parts of the object but between the differents dimensions in which it spreads out” (Bernad Lepetit, “Architecture, géographie, histoire: usages de l’échelle”, in Genèses, 13, 1993, p. 129.) Likewise, Aurélien Mole’s fictional narrative about the future potential of research in the margins seems to reflect on the importance of considering particular micro-realities in order to recapture larger macro-perspectives.

But it is perhaps the question of distance that interests me the most here. In artistic research –and we may want to consider its modes of existence and qualities as in Jean-Pierre Cometti’s interview with Eric Mangion for Le Centre National d’Art Contemporain de La Villa Arson – distance is sometimes created and annihilated in a stroke, or perhaps created in one dimension of a project and obliterated in another one. Stephen Willats’ work offers perhaps an example of such dialectical interaction with a context where the artist is embodied in the photographic work, in the relative distance of the camera and what it points at which through composition, offers an immediate intimacy, and yet, paradoxically, a sense of estrangement. From a different perspective the idea of hosting as a form of offering a shortening of distance is dramatically staged in Berdaguer + Péjus’ intervention in the back building of the Centre d’Art Contemporain La Synagogue de Delme, where space is considered in it physical, affective and ghostly dimensions, materialising the multiplicity of directions in which distance operates.

Carlo Ginzburg considers and actualises the different moral implications of distance both in terms of time and space (Carlo Ginzburg, “Killing a Chinese Mandarin: The Moral Implications of Distance”, in Wooden Eyes: Nine Reflections on Distance, Verso Books, 2002.) For the historian the inevitability of distance in time (the past becoming ever longer and the future shortening its distance to us permanently), towards which he or she is impotent can be counteracted through the way the past is remembered or written about. Distance in time and space often operates as detachment or oblivion, but also as admiration or desire –or perhaps sometimes as a paradoxical interweaving of some of all of these possibilities. (And here, I find interesting Valérie Mréjen’s fictional account in La Chapelle Saint-Jacques’ intervention on uncoupdedés.net, where the contrast and complex interweaving between civil time and experienced time become evident.) Transposing this to the field of contemporary art, the time-space framework of the artistic project, operates at several levels of close proximity and distancing, often transcended or further materialised through memory and documentation – Elie During’s contribution in relation to visiting the Cneai attests to this in a diagrammatic way. But if experience is at the core of the artistic act, then form becomes a way of shortening or elongating the distance to that which seemed to be pointed at. Adva Zakai’s intervention on uncoupdedes.net –as a step forward in her collaboration with Le Quartier Centre d’Art Contemporain – is a performance that happens in the time-space of a website, an act of giving form which creates an experience of place where the subject is not represented but embodied through words.

On a more often dealt with topic, the relationship, and therefore relative distance, between an artist and a context is problematised in several experiences related in uncoupdedés.net. Apart from the above mentioned work of Stephen Willats, one could quite clearly refer to Claudio Zulian’s strategies of working with specific communities as a filmmaker (portrayed here under the notion of empowerment), or the experience and ethical concerns of involving oneself as an artist with the management of nuclear waste. Is there a normative notion of distance that can be appealed to and therefore a prescribed form of responsibility which can claim a definite response to a context? It seems to me that Dora García and Jean-Pierre Cometti address this issue by discussing what constitutes the work of art which for García is a form of relationship between the author and the audience, and therefore is non-prescribed or scripted in absolute terms.

But what about proximity? What about the physical, embodied relation to what one distances oneself from or moves closer to? What about affects? Producers are affected by those they address their “products” to. As in Matthieu Saladin’s text about Cornelius Cardew’s work, presented in 2009 at the CAC Brétigny: “It [the act of listening] acts directly on its own source and affirms itself as an activity that, in collective production, reflects on what is being heard. Listening is not simply the space of passive affections, for it affects, in turn, that towards which it is directed” (Matthieu Saladin, “Like a Cloud Hanging in the Sky”, uncoupdedés.net, 2013.) It might be that outer space is not that far when one invokes its distance as a form of proximity with one’s own thoughts, but also, it is by observing the sky that one can see into the past, annihilating the physical distance that separates us from it as beautifully out by Emmanuelle Pagano: “To think is to get as close as possible to the absolute present, but our thoughts, our emotions, our memories, take time to travel in ourselves, to be distributed between our senses. To observe space is to watch what’s already happened, observing space is always nostalgic.” (Emmanuelle Pagano, “Night-Light”, uncoupdedés.net, 2013.)

ABOUT

Bolstered by its success and visibility, uncoupdedés.net is restarting and subjecting existing content to new voices. In 2014 and 2015, several personalities from outside France will be asked to become our editorial writers for one season. Their task will be to place the contents of the whole magazine in perspective, presenting them differently through the prism of their subjectivity and their own work contexts. Catalina Lozano (Colombia), Zasha Colah (India), Moe Satt (Myanmar) and Manuela Moscoso (Brazil): each guest editor will reformulate the actions of the centres d’art, various aspects of which they will have been able to perceive through the magazine. Each editor-in-chief will “roll off” a cross-cutting text, presenting an original re-examination of the resolutely fluid geography of the centres d’art. uncoupdedés.net repeats the challenge from the poet Mallarmé, resurrected in the cinematographic art of Jean-Marie Straub and Danièle Huillet (Every Revolution is a Roll of the Dice, 1977). The guest editors, coming from a variety of disciplines, will widen the circle of expression even more. Choral and fragmentary, uncoupdedés.net takes just as much after puzzles as it does after memories, and naturally calls for cut-outs of every kind…

CATALINA LOZANO

(Bogota, Colombia)

Independent curator and researcher, born in 1979. En 2011, she co-founded the curatorial platform de_sitio in Mexico City. Catalina Lozano studied history (Universidad Nacional de Colombia), visual cultures (Goldsmiths College, University of London) the theory and practice of language and the arts (École des Hautes Études en Sciences Sociales, Paris). At the heart of her work are minor narratives and the revision of dominant historical discourses. Her most recent projects include Une machine désire de l’instruction comme un jardin désire de la discipline (MARCO, Vigo; FRAC Lorraine and Alhondiga, Bilbao, 2013-14), Being an Island (with Kasha Bittenr, daadgalerie, Berlin, 2013), La puerta hacia lo invisible debe ser visible (Casa del Lago, Mexico City, 2012), ¿Tierra de nadie? (Centro Cultural Montehermoso, Vitoria-Gasteiz, 2011) and Everything has a name, or the potential to be named (with Anna Colin, Gasworks, London, 2009). From 2008 to 2010, Catalina Lozano was head of the residency program at Gasworks (London). She is a member of the artistic team of the 8th Berlin Biennale (2014).