L’ atelier

HD video, 1 channel, sound, 3′

“Lʼatelier” is a strange cure for time.
Harbour and support when I’m facing loneliness through some existential anxieties, it is where I think, search, try, try again, stop, trace and draw, balance, press and compress, relax, slow down, freeze, darken, whiten, cut up and carve, set, hang and contemplate things vanishing. That place doesn’t always need a roof neither an address.
It’s where the need of trace arises, where emotion deals with thinking, where the present time holds me.
L’atelier appears when the fear of the loss is erupting, teasing within its well-known waves then threatening lives and territories sometimes I do believe mine.
But the time is also devoted there to reflect time, to decode and to compose with what I captured from it.

My accordionist neighbor is whistling a fugue tune… never the same… She appeases me with her endless attempts to an eternal return, repeating that the atelier’s key is obviously inside the atelier.
The tripod is an easel, the camera is a windmill and a metronome. The charcoal, some ash juiced by the rain.
Using these tools in my anxiolytic preparations I play with the indomitable ebb and flow of the moment.
The illusive devices I create to accept to live and die at the same time, help me to believe that summers won’t come to an end.

Hearing, recording, listening over and over again to the leeks growing…
Beyond a pataphysic game or an idiotic poetry, I’m directed by the will of tuning to a terrestrial time code : Ici le présent sʼarrose.
L’atelier makes me see that life is being written with a light shining in the shade of its countdown.
Then the time which remains is not the time coming up but what makes me come to it.