THE BROOKLYN SERIES

" THE BROOKLYN SERIES "

2006

Second volet du triptyque "Around and Around" - Stacy Stewart Smith gallery, Brooklyn/NY

Installation : 1813 blisters sont disposés aléatoirement dans tout l'espace de la galerie

"Around and Around" - En 2002 une première série de 1813 blisters contenant chacun une empreinte originale a été envoyée par la poste, et dispersée ainsi aux quatre coins du monde selon un choix de destinataires inconnus.
Un de ces blisters, arrivé à Brooklyn a initié une seconde série de 1813 blisters : "the brooklyn series" inaugurant ainsi le second volet du triptyque

"Around and Around".

blister - une empreinte/une boite plastique/11cm x 7cm

note from the curator – text by Stacy Stewart SMITH
The aim of most art is to leave an impression upon the mind of the viewer which says something about life here on earth or at least the concept thereof. When it comes to fine art installations their often exists within me a quandary. In my opinion, there had always been only a thin line between these installations and window display. On most instances, I have preferred the later. This mindset was developed after seeing many poor examples. However, when I arrived to my gallery one afternoon a year ago and found a simple letter from Paris, I had no idea that I was about to experience and participate in one of the most profound fine art installations of all time. At first the envelope alarmed me, for it bore no return address, I thought it might be a prank cooked by one of my colleagues. My attempt to peek through the envelope failed miserably but I still didn’t open the letter, well, at least not yet.

Twenty-four hours later the mystery was killing me, so, I gave into temptation.Inside was a printed fingerprint encased in a clear plastic blister (number 113 of 1813 pieces) which were of an installation that took place in a Paris gallery. I was naturally amused when the thought resonated that perhaps the installation was continuing all over the world. Yes, I thought, this was “Fine Art” and I was participating in this installation performance as I held it in my hand. Tristan Tzara, Marcel Duchamp and Andy Warhol combined could not have done it any better. This blister says more about our epoch and even more about our origins. In a time of pandemics and terrorism - this is art.
. And now the installation continues, even here in Brooklyn. The Stacy Stewart Smith Gallery is proud to present “the Brooklyn Series” an installation by French Artist, Aldo Caredda.
Stacy Stewart SMITH Gallery – the Brooklyn series - Brooklyn/NY/2006

Edition

" ONETWOTRHEEFOUR – édition "

journal 12 pages, noir et blanc, 41cm x 31,5cm - 6000

édition produite pour les expositions : "the brooklyn series" (Stacy Stewart Smith Gallery, Brooklyn). et "1813" (Galerie Incognito, Paris)

onetwothreefour – une même empreinte disparaît / une même empreinte apparaît - quatre séquences

The absentee – texte par Nane Beauregard

the absentee

Je ne la connaissais pas, je ne l’avais même jamais vue et lui prêtais mille visages quand il m’arrivait de penser à elle. J’étais son endroit, elle était mon envers. Elle était aussi mon endroit et j’étais l’envers de l’étoffe qui était notre lot commun et que, fil à fil, avec obstination, je tissais.

Un jour enfin, et pourquoi celui-là ? elle m’a fait ce cadeau, elle m’a fait cette grâce : je l’ai vue. Elle avait le visage du manque et celui de l’absence et j’ai su que c’était elle et j’ai su que je l’aimais.

Alors, de ses mains blondes, avec douceur, avec tendresse et avec fermeté, elle a déchiré le masque de dentelle noire qui collait à ma peau et me faisait un visage.

Elle l’a emporté, m’a souri, puis m’a dit qu’elle voulait partir, qu’elle voulait aller, qu’il était temps, que maintenant j’allais pouvoir la détacher, défaire nos cordes, la laisser enfin vivre sa vie et vivre sa mort.

Alors je l’ai laissée. Je l’ai laissée partir, je l’ai laissée s’en aller, là où elle voulait aller, là où pourrait s’accomplir son destin, là où, j’avais choisi de l’ignorer, elle avait toujours voulu être et où, finalement, elle avait toujours été.

Nane Beauregard

la disparue

I did not know her, I had never even seen her and I lent her a thousand faces whenever I thought of her. I was her outside, she was my inside. She was also my inside and I, the inside of the fabric which was our common lot and which I stubbornly weaved stitch by stich.

Finally, one day, who knows what that day ? she accorded me this grace : to let me see her. She had the face of emptiness and absence, and I knew it was her and I loved her.

Then, with her pale hands, softly, tenderly and firmly ? she tore away the mask of black lace glued to my skin in lieu of a face.

She took it away, smiled at me, then told me she wanted to go, that it was time for her to go, that I could now detach myself from her, untie our bonds, let her go inter her life, into her death. So I left her go, I left her go where she wanted, where her fate drew her, where as I had refused to see she had always wanted to be and, in truth, had always been.

Nane Beauregard. - (trad. Agnes Jacob)