There were no standards for him except this he could make for himself. There were no standards for him because he could not accept the definitions, the hideously mechanical jargon of the age. He saw no-one around him worth his envy, did not believe in the vast, grey sleep which was called security, did not believe in the cures, panaceas, and slogans which afflicted the world he knew; and this meant that he had to create his standards and make up his definitions as he went along. It was up to him to find out who he was, and it was his necessity to do this, so far as the witch doctors of the time were concerned, alone.
Another Country, James Baldwin, 1962
I know You’re out there is a collective show searching for answers to the ideological and systemic collapse.
These explorations paved with love, naïvety and sensuality lean on exercising researches for alternatives.
The show talks about ruins and reconstruction, about a generation cultivating hope in despair, and cultivating, in fine, the opposition. In this deserted apartment are exposed crafted artworks highliting both the action done and the individual making. Showcasing the handmade appears as a will to go back to some honesty and evokes a generational position hesitating between a progressive and a reactionary society, between opening and contraction, a generation that emphasizes the affects in these in-betweens, affects erected as the ultimate safe space.
The programmed performances take place in the heart of the scenography since they act as the expression of both vulnerability and hope. A way to draw an emotional territory facing the failure of society and a convocation of the viewer to reflect his own constructions.
«I know You’re out there» creates a space for revelations where intimacy is a shelter as well as a place for emancipation: it looks as much at the artwork as at the artist. The presented videos give a place to the artist-author. The latter appears as a character both through the point of view and the reality-fiction tonality; himself/herself is the hook of the story.
These narratives try to establish a link.
The conference cycle is to evoke the main lines of the exhibition and to process and question new alternatives and states of play.
In a landscape of distress, we speak of hope, other possibilities and joy like tools for revolt and refusal.
Pauline Perplexe, Flora Citroën, Gaëlle Choisne, Liv Schulman, Thomas Liu le lann, Jehane Mahmoud, Johan Papaconstantino, Simon Brossard, Julie Villard, Lisa Signorini, Félise de Conflans, Mehdi Besnainou, Camille Alena, Gaadjika, Apollinaria Broche, Hugs’n’Drugs, Eden Tinto Collins, Tom Volkaert
Photo by Romain Darnaud