These walls are primarily pictorial compositions inspired by architecture. Their arrangement is based on a free interpretation of the facades I observe during my urban travels. My gaze lingers on the information they contain, whether historical, colorimetric, or rhythmic.
Like the human body, this urban skin transforms: it changes, repairs itself, ages, decomposes, and eventually disappears. The walls thus become living surfaces, bearing the traces of time and use.
Due to the scale of the materials used and the lack of space in the studio where they were designed, the sculptures were first modeled in three dimensions on a computer. This digital stage allowed me to virtually assemble the collected elements and work on the compositions before their physical realization. The appearance of the volumes on screen influenced the decision to paint the back of the opaque surfaces gray. Gray is the generic color of volumes in many modeling software programs. This color—or rather this non-color—gives the whole an aesthetic that tends towards virtualization by minimizing details of shade and texture, reinforced by the flatness of the walls. This gesture raises questions about the influence of these digital tools in the design of our real environment and the value cycle that materials undergo.
I wanted to turn these walls into color charts, samples of materials taken from public spaces, often too damaged to be preserved. This accumulation gives off an impression of fragility and volatility, in tension with the notions of solidity and permanence usually associated with architecture, walls, real estate, or the city itself.
Suspended and held in balance by a wire, these partitions react to the slightest drafts, setting themselves in motion and continually transforming the perception of the space that houses them. Through their alignment, their openings and closings, they generate a variable, ever-changing geometric environment.
