How does one define abstraction? Is it possible to really pin the concept down? Let’s go beyond banalities which oppose the abstract to the concrete and tangible. The photographs which I present to you here are detached, outside the final composition, which is intentionally not shown. What seduced me in this sculpture by Julio Le Parc, a Franco-Argentine artist, is the invitation to hear the internal pulse of the work. It is impossible to enter the sculpture, which was created from thousands of squares of plexiglass. But one can clear a path of contemplation inside the sculpture. The “reality” of the work is thus transformed thanks to the delicate balance between the form and color, which dance with the light and movement. Each fragment enters a dialogue and becomes an echo of the whole.
It is like entering the box, which the pilot in Antoine de Saint Exupery’s Le Petit Prince, finally draws, after becoming annoyed and exhausted by the repeated demands of the little prince to draw him a sheep. All these “realistic” sketches earned reproaches from the little prince. In a state of panic over his own survival in the middle of the desert, the pilot hastily scribbles a box, which he claims contains the sheep. The little prince is delighted. It is exactly what he wanted. His sheep is protected. He can feed it and travel with it. It is there, while invisible at the same time. This story fascinated me when I was a child. It helped me to understand that whatever exists is not always visible. The box--a tangible object--is only a shape, a protecting envelope, that encloses the essential, meaning the invisible.
Are we in front of a theatrical decor, a canvas washed in red, a representation of cosmic waves? The transparency, the fluidity, and the irregular dabs of color belong to the unforeseeable situations which seize my imagination.
And very quickly, the environment changes, moves, recovers the flashes of light. New streaks of light are in the process of being created. A white window opens, bearing a vision that goes beyond the internal contortions.
I am not alone in this labyrinth. Beyond the squares of Plexiglas, forms appear gradually, another spectator--another “I”? The other takes form, fragmenting into ghostly bits and pieces. I start to be aware of his or her materiality, but is my presence can be seen? Is this important? Existence is there, transforming itself in terms of my own motion and my breath. Meeting it lets me create a story from my interior to the exterior. I can therefore change the external reality suggested by the artist by deconstructing it and changing the time and space in an emotional landscape.
“Sphere Rouge” (2001-2013) by Julio Le Parc.