hands… more than just a body part, hands that hurt and care, hands that push and protect
wind turbines...to the pristine nature free of any human intervention is superimposed another nature, an intentional, tamed and artificial one.
Industrial objects take the place of old meadows, alleys lined with plane trees are now bordered by wind turbines, looking towards the sky not encounter a spider web but a web of metal structures and high cables tension, pales replace the flower petals.
It there is neither nostalgia or revivalism: just finding another kind is taking place, an industrialized nature with its own aesthetic judgments. Not to mention the hope that this should not prevent us to appreciate roads lined with plane trees, real insects and wild flowers that it will be impossible to replace.
Somewhere else and yet there : a city within the city ...
The fair is a world like no other. Garish colors invade the city, amazed kids cling to their parents' arms, sounds coming from all directions. An almost real world. Everything is in bad taste, but the whole is so consistent. This is the crowd, shouting, forgetfulness, willful blindness, that's life in a joyful empty. Half-closed eyes, adults are projected elsewhere, in a world that was theirs when they, too, clung to their parents' arms shared anguish and dreams acrylic color. The party in the middle of the buildings, a city within a city, another planet made of such beautiful illusions just around the corner.