Addressing the place as last place as the final installation of this journey, this wandering. How the deal, how about this time in the area? How to say what materialized, would fill the space in the room? Say precisely how the reality encountered? Not flatten two three images? How about the process? Research, the journey that I, crossing the roads, I saw? How to put my vision? These images that I keep all those I have already forgotten, lost in a void inside as a stream of air that rotates around the building, a cloud of images not yet selected which forms the territory ... How to reduce it to two or three images that will remain as the area's image, reduced vision at all?
I could succeed at that. A slideshow trying this approach, putting end to end, the images selected by the camera, it is visible in this blog, posted in March 2008. It's simple approach to sharing, close to a normal consumption of image, narrative film. I preferred it to the work missing.
This exhibition is a stopgap, a return on time spent in a place, the conclusion was act July:
"Crossing the territory by canoe: entry by the border south-west towards the marshes of Vred, advanced on a slow old canalized river, abandoned the Scarpe to its confluence with the borders of the country , where it empties into the monster that devours the Scheldt to cross the border, to the great north-east of the territory. Mortagne du Nord. Bordertown.
Here is the work, the real, this performance This view barges crossing near the present scarpe, witnesses of the passage of this boat, wooden, sail on, anachronistic, drifting gently on the flow almost stopped lenses green. Here is the work. True. Performance without a trace. The rest should have been silence.
But it is there. Posed. Last flash before disappearing. Total
. In the horizon of the landscape. "
Installation began there.
A pair of boots, put a stove, a box of matches" golondria "and the tent. The components were assembled in these objects: water, fire, air split by the swallow of spring on the blue ethereal and pristine land, bringing the tent.
Waiting too.
An idea, planing , survival: boots protecting water, fire away wild animals, the roof, the rain ... And waiting for a land to discover: the card to reach inside the tent, a graphic work on paper, an image with the information traveling across a landscape. Blue for water. Green forest. Orange border, one that includes dragging the cord jacket hanging in the tent ... little vest regulatory dated, supposed to protect myself too sudden immersion in one of the country: water.
Immersion. Grip.
A pin is a blank map.
"A writing sheet. Wall. From the Alpine Chalet . This card will collect the final moments, the last moments associated with the installation, in this place, and connecting the obtuse at obviates the hidden seen. A tiny detail, hard to find. This pin is tied to something for a souvenir during the turmoil of this year, in a garden near the water too. A clothesline stretched, crossed the garden on a sloping uncontrolled and wild. Someone a bit stiff, he stuck a pole in his garden for the clothesline in the perfect alignment of a small path.
Here, no.
The rope from a tree that was there before, until another tree also predates the installation of the colon and its cord. The person had adapted to the environment. And not vice versa.
Then I put on the wall, a table for me symptomatic of the residency on the territory and the schism occurred.
This painting was done here in wazemmes, out of territory in the workshop. But the yellow line from a landscape seen on the small road that leads to Douchy Mines, when you want to avoid making the turn from the highway and Valenciennes. This landscape, not photographed (I noted to return to do, as for the clothes line quoted above) is a canola field, near the road that day and carrying a light that marked me. It did for me the whole story. It was, in any case, in my mind when this line, several times I have drawn here in the studio. A citation. The yellow line = rapeseed field on the road Douchy = landa canola field for the viewer. A generic
. Not repaid by the author of the picture.
Then comes the place. The very place of installation. Which carries its own ideas ... tile and grid are probably responsible for this action of appropriation of space.
The space was plaid. He already was. But not ordered nor abscissa. I use as references to record locations linked. The B-8 is linked to the M-6. THE B-8, matchbox "Golondria", via English, or just the image carried by the box of matches, on behalf of the canoe "The Swallow" located at M-6.
Finally, an old Jules Verne is placed on a table in white resin, (boat hull) at the entrance, he speaks of a country, a city that does not exist on maps, on the banks of the Scheldt ... This book, "Dr. Ox " is placed exactly where it should be. "O" on the ordinate, abscissa "10", in Roman numerals: " OX " The writing was
. Slow. High.
Coal chosen, is made of willow charcoal. Weeping willow. I write the words with the rest of willow. Above the canoe. The cry of words meaning to the boat. Black letters, coal, drawn in charcoal of willow, part of which falls to the ground in dust ... head, a song, Helen Merrill, a voice close to a single breath, singing "Willow Weep For Me" ...
The phrase, letter by letter reads. If missing. A letter. It is flawed.
Each letter has a role to play. The whole talk.
This phrase is mine, complete, closed. Unit. With the boat.
Both speak of a thing past, without the walnut details. In a past thing that has not made any noise. In water flow, under a bridge. I passed.
And the lack of evidence. In this open slot and closed again. A life.
And leaving that night, one last photo stop, making as if to declare that, to eye, the actual opening of a poem. The photo is pinned and I note the path of blue neon and tail of the horse teaches as embedded in the written sentence. In this kind of an epiphany moment opens the impression of being in the sense of the world, my world no doubt. Shared
here.
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