“Die, your beautiful eyes, handsome Marchioness, love make me.”*

I look at my sculptures as if they were sentences without syntax. Their shapes’ elements are interchangeable, same as the place of words. Like this, arbitrary alliances, wild configurations, chimeras inevitably occur within the language… It is not a matter of questioning appearances but more like disrupting the logic of representations. I favour incoherence to approach the chaos of thinking ; the mental state before words, before the figure, before creation.“Indefinity state” said Raymond Queneau.

*Mister Jourdain’s line in “The Bourgeois Gentilhomme”, Moliere’s play.

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