Loris Gréaud: French institutional critique at the highest level.
I know, it's summer... But if you happen to be visiting paris, you shouldn't miss these extraordinary and powerfull pieces.
If Loris Gréaud was too young to witness the fall of the Soviet Union and that of its leaders' monumental statues, he may have seen Lithuanian artist Deimantas Narkevicus’ films. More recently, he couldn’t have avoided the debunking of Saddam Hussein’s effigy. It’s actually about him that I thought, when I saw Loris Gréaud's new commissioned work for the Louvre Pyramid.
The powerful images of power going down -and not only in Iraq- are very much present in this work where the notion of absence is carved into a apparently dense material. It's also the images of dead Muslims ready to be burried that come to mind, wrapped bodies seen in so many photos from the Syrian conflict. And then maybe some will think about Cristo and about a mysterious human figure under the folds. In fact the work is the reconstruction of the veiled Michel-Angelo's sculpture "The rebel Slave", a sort of gay icon with a very strong political title.
If these images of massacres and dictatorial power are there without being there, Gréaud's aesthetic is deliberately very classical. The piece is like a Rodin waiting to be unveiled in front of the crowd of tourists queuing to get in. It's therefore more the symbol of State statuary that is being openly referred to here, in a sort of nostalgic and conformist imitation of a 19th century piece. But this anachronistic trompe-l’œil doesn't hide for long that there's nothing under the monumental cover, thus expressing the emptiness of contemporary art commissions in France. It's not without humour that the artist tells Jean-Max Colard in the magazine Les Inrocks that he wanted to "stretch to its limit the desire to see the veil taken away", when it's obvious that it’s not meant to happen. This uncanny emptiness is actually a hidden but severe critique of French institutions, and at the same time a cynical comment on the audience's bourgeois and playful expectations.
If these images of massacres and dictatorial power are there without being there, Gréaud's aesthetic is deliberately very classical. The piece is like a Rodin waiting to be unveiled in front of the crowd of tourists queuing to get in. It's therefore more the symbol of State statuary that is being openly referred to here, in a sort of nostalgic and conformist imitation of a 19th century piece. But this anachronistic trompe-l’œil doesn't hide for long that there's nothing under the monumental cover, thus expressing the emptiness of contemporary art commissions in France. It's not without humour that the artist tells Jean-Max Colard in the magazine Les Inrocks that he wanted to "stretch to its limit the desire to see the veil taken away", when it's obvious that it’s not meant to happen. This uncanny emptiness is actually a hidden but severe critique of French institutions, and at the same time a cynical comment on the audience's bourgeois and playful expectations.
This piece is to be seen with the second commission he got from the
Centre Pompidou. In this highly visible and symbolic space, the artist
chose to tackle the notion of risk taking with the "the big jump".
It's Klein's photo that first comes to mind as well as Paul McCarthy's accident while trying to jump in the void for real... It’s also Bas Jan Ader's poetic falls and other performances by Chris Burden or maybe Sarah Charlesworth's photo "Unidentified Woman, Genesse Hotel" . In fact, here, Gréaud chooses to stage a professional jump, a cold and de-dramatized action. The risk is absolutely controlled and dealt with by trained people; not circus artists or firemen but stunt men and women, for whom a jump of about 13 yards onto a deep mattress seems ridiculously easy.
It's Klein's photo that first comes to mind as well as Paul McCarthy's accident while trying to jump in the void for real... It’s also Bas Jan Ader's poetic falls and other performances by Chris Burden or maybe Sarah Charlesworth's photo "Unidentified Woman, Genesse Hotel" . In fact, here, Gréaud chooses to stage a professional jump, a cold and de-dramatized action. The risk is absolutely controlled and dealt with by trained people; not circus artists or firemen but stunt men and women, for whom a jump of about 13 yards onto a deep mattress seems ridiculously easy.
If you're not in to art, you might be thinking of self-confidence workshops, or just bungee for fun. You are not thinking about people you saw (live on tv) jump from the Twin Towers on fire, since, as the artist puts it: "This sculpture and this completely neutral way of falling (…) are defusing all possible relation to 9/11. " His sense of humour isas dark and cynical as his work. Political conflicts of his time are implicitly referred to but he refuses to take position. It's a bit further down in the article that he gives more clues about his cold and cool attitude: "It's more a machine and in this sense, it's anti-spectacular. " In a way, who would be stupid enough to be tricked by the false spectacle of a machine? Could the audience be as dumb as the institution? Maybe the answer is to be found in the title, this "I" between brackets, designed a bit like the Worlford's logo. Me, or the "one" of roman numerals.
As a journalist has it in France Fine Art: "Loris Gréaud puts us in the position of being questioned. Who makes the piece, the movement of the gesture of infinity, the artistic creator or these men who practice it, gravitate it and throw themselves in the void. Loris Gréaud proves us that the piece is everything." I swear I'm just translating. In Bonbon, he is described as "what’s best in terms of contemporary art in France today." In another article he claims that "the critique of the work belongs to art critics." It's without surprise that you'll find him more in music and fashion press that you can read about him. Marie Salomé Peyronnel in Glamour calls him "the little prince of contemporary art". In Citizen K, he is described as "a natural master of ceremony" for whom "when you name something, it disappears". Strange and personal take on language... but with "this double exhibition allows the artists to share his dreams with us" states Le Figaro Madame. It is therefore a very sharp and cutting critique of the current void in the French art see that Gréaud is staging here.
If, like Aude de Bourbon Parme has it in Rue 89, his solo exhibition at the Palais de Tokyo in 2008 revealed that ambition is still very badly perceived in France, he's making a strong statement today about the false promises of the official art world. At the same time, he blows the whistle on the over-professionalization of artists, replaced by minimum risk taking stuntmen and women. A strong lesson in institutional critique.
(articles on the projet can be found on a special press tumblr )
images (click on images to enlarge them)
1.Loris Gréaud, (1) Louvre, 2013
2. Statut of liberty opening French Consulat, NY
3. Sculpture for the French village Althen-des-paluds, by Marcella Kratz, 2005 '
4. Deimantas Narkevicius, still from “Once in the 20th Century” BetaCam, 7 min, 2004.
5. “The Rebel Slave” michaelangelo
6.Houla (Syrie), le 26 mai 2012. (SHAAM NEWS NETWORK / AFP)
7 & 9. Loris Gréaud, (I)Centre George Pompidou
8. "9/11" photo by Jose Jimenez/Primera Hora/Getty Images
9.Yves Klein, le saut dans le vide. 1960. Photomontage
10. Bas Jan Ader, still from "Fall II", Amsterdam, 16mm, 19 sec
11. Bas Jan Ader, still from Fall I, Los Angeles, Bas Jan Ader, 16mm, duration: 24 sec
12.Sarah Charlesworth's photo « Unidentified Woman, Genesse Hotel »
13. logo Wolford
14. Logo Loris Gréaud
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