Anaïs de Chabaneix — Beau Temps — Budtime — Laure Roynette Gallery — Exhibition — Slash Paris

Past: March 23 → May 18, 2013

Anaïs de Chabaneix à la galerie Laure Roynette Après avoir marqué les esprits au Salon Jeune Création au 104 en 2011, Anaïs de Chabaneix bénéficie de sa première exposition perso... 2 - Bien Critique

“All men and mountains, all flowers, all fishes, all carps, all cities, all musicals instruments, all monkeys, all books, all ours faces turn around the sun.”

Pascal Quignard, Les ombres errantes, Paris, 2002.

Slow evolution around a form of sonorous and visual language, the artist seeks, in her choice of materials and objects, to make visible something apparently tactile, to mute a sound. To hold and suspend a gesture, a word. Contradictory associations which make existence of something.

“There is often the invitation of a gesture, the research associated with a slow and thorough process, the sensation of progressing blindly, finding one’s bearings or losing oneself in infinity . My work seeks to materialise the strike of inspiration and is supported by the expectation of a graphic or sonorous significance, a support which dissolves under our gaze.”

Anaïs de Chabaneix.

Guest artist, Romain Huteau, presents an eoliphone I am the wind, which invites us to oparate the instrument. This project caracterises the beginning of a dialogue between the two artists, around an idea designed with the time, from exchange and from common journeys. In echo, a sigh tries to become an object. The breath of the glassworker which forms the material melt, breath apparently imperceptible, is made visible by that same material.

A wall of leaves, apparently blank, shows in filigree a ghost Herbarium revealed by light : on the one hand, it gives the illusion of a white paper, and one the other hand, reveals a vegetal silhouette through the paper. This Herbarium is collected over the artist’s readings, here extracted from Le Jardin des supplices, of Octave Mirbeau.

Drumsticks of blown glass point a look of nothing, devoted to remain in silence on a stone, mute of any echo. A sheet of lead replaces the skin of the drum. Played, the lead kept in memory every rhythmic impact. A circular musical score indicates replaying the space between the two signs. No note written, this space-time come turns to infinity.