Restons Courtois — Anne Barrault Gallery — Exhibition — Slash Paris

Past: September 8 → October 20, 2012

This combination of artists is meant to arouse the same sensation as the noise of chalk on a blackboard. But, contrary to this example, the embarrassment, the reject or the discomfort will come imperceptibly. Slyly, like the coli bacteria or the Shigella that have got into the delicious Greek sandwich you are eating — which will end up getting out more quickly than it got in.

The title of this exhibition has been borrowed at a ridiculous rate from Michel Houellebecq goncourted opus entitled the Map and the Territory. Page 63, Houellebecq writes:

She turned towards him, looked at him pensively for a few seconds before asking: — Are you the artist? — Yes. She looked at him again, more attentively, for at least five seconds, before saying: — I think it is very beautiful. … For the exhibition, (Jed) had chosen one piece of the Creuse Michelin map, on which his grandmother’s village appeared. He had shot with an important incline (…) to get a very large depth of field. Only then had he added the distance fuzziness and the skyline bluish effect by using Photoshop layers. (…) Do you have many photographs of this kind? — A little more than eight hundred.

Bernhard Rüdiger will hang what he calls helmets with lightning conductors at a standard man’s head level. Kinds of shamanic contemporary headgears, halfway between Amazonian ones and the ultra-ion helmet allowing an unlimited connection time with the Cosmos (weekends included). It is quite peculiar since every ethnical element is there — colors, material (wood for feathers, and terracotta for the hat).

However the visitor will not be struck by lightning, as wood and terracotta are not conductors. Cross my heart.

Faycal Baghriche will have his video film Philippe. According to the well-known principle of inversion, a pharaoh stands near Louvre tube station. The same that can be seen usually in front of Beaubourg, dressed in gold, stiff as a poker, only moving when a passer-by puts a few cents in the cup at his feet. The difference is that a dummy is slipped under the golden toga at the very beginning of the film. The tourist, used to its being always a living body dressed up as a puppet pharaoh, gives his offering, and has his photo taken in front of it. But nothing happens. Not the slightest movement, and for a very good reason. About ten people give generously all along this Sunday, May 4th 2008 (as is mentioned precisely). I will not reveal the end, otherwise no one will watch the whole film — and the payment for this chronicle will never be deposited in my Swiss bank account.

As for Heidi Wood, she will display her diverted works: souvenir plates on which the Meccas of tourists, such as the grim industrial harbors of Hamburg or Bremen, are printed. They are so impeccably made that they could easily be scattered in a souvenir shop, at the foot of Belfort citadel, to be bought by tourists who would not even notice that the design has nothing to do with the visited place. Ideal between the luminous Venetian gondola and the Camargue bull with banderillas, made in China in genuine plastic, on the television set.

Guillaume Pinard will exhibit several pieces. On the one hand, a drawing (the fisherman, 65×50 cm), rather repelling, and I am being polite, which, like everything that provokes this kind of reaction, is very attractive. Without describing it any further, I leave those interested to discover how hideous it is (a well-known publicity stratagem to attract onlookers). Those who are familiar with Guillaume Pinard’s work know he is a specialist of freaks. On the other hand, a black and white animation film, mysteriously entitled Prince Butterfly will be shown. As I have not viewed it, its being edited at the moment, I am unable to give any information about its length or its subject. It is not very serious, I know, but it is better than to talk rubbish.

To keep on with the field of mains failure, Sarah Tritz is making a work especially for this exhibition, so, once more, I am not able to enlighten you much about it neither am I going to describe an animal film to stay on the air. However, here is what the artist told Mrs. Anne Barrault –the manager of the gallery, which is strangely called after the same name:

“Let us be polite”, you imagine you are going to see meaningful pieces about the state of affairs. It implies: let us be polite, but let us retort through forms! Let us be polite, however, there would be matter to provoke a duel! I do not want forms to be only polite, though I like the idea of politeness very much. All right for this title, if the forms which are exhibited look polite but only on the surface!”

Mimosa Echard will show ceramic knives she has modeled. The blades are nicked, their edges are no longer very straight. They are displayed on a stand at eye level, the ones behind the others, untidily, in precise order. They create a desolate, barren, lunar landscape. Or one of high mountains. Rather of high mountain actually. Are there not mountains on the moon? This work is very poetical, but if I tell you I have not seen it, you are going to believe me.

Katharina Bosse will hang her paintings of flowers on a background of flowers. This vegetable tautology is disturbing, because you do feel there is something odd, but it takes some time before you notice the device. OK, it is not very polite to reveal the end of the story, but do as everybody else: do not read the prospectuses you are given. Actually, if you have reached this passage, it means you have been assiduous: good for you.

Let’s not get angry (as Georges Lautner would say in 1966).