Karim Ghelloussi

Sans titre (Au désert j’ai dû me rendre), 2012.


…Though something like a veil of boredom seemed to settle on her face as I spoke, I proceeded: a sculpture grows from the succession of gestures which has contributed to its realization, it carries the trace, and even the wounds of the kind of choreography from which it proceeds. A note of impatience, perhaps even of irony, in the way her fingers tapped on the table.

Should I tell her that personally speaking, this question of the body actually doesn’t interest me very much, at least not in these terms? The business of making a sculpture is inscribed in a singular moment which mobilizes energy, unknown forces, and the body itself, in motion. But this is like any manufactured object and I hesitate to tell her that an inexpensive chair dialogues as closely with the human body as any sculpture representing it…


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