La peau légère de cicatrices
C’est une Frankenstein de la vie
Le vide des regards traverse un corps lourd
De souvenirs qu’on ne veut plus connaître
Le poids des cicatrices se figent dans le visage de la tête
Et la vie se déverse des balafres palpitantes
Plus elle passe et moins on est
Recompositions en quelques histoires
Dans la tête de l’un ou de l’autre
Le souvenir ment encore quelques temps
Dans la familiarité qui se décout lentement
Et dans la terre, elle sort par derrière
Comme ces têtes qui partent aussi
Dans le vide et l’infini
Séverine Lynch
Belgrade, 29 juillet 2020, 22h00


Memories of the act of suffering, of resisting take new shape in the heads before you. Eighteen sets of eyes whose shifting skins reflect the elasticity of our own living selves. Do our scars make us grow? Or do we shrink at the loss of bodily mass, at the loss of who we once were? Weakness and stability are entwined in the fragility of these pork bladder masks. Our contacts, our relations to each other — what seeps out of one mask may seep into another causing harm, causing joy. The lightness of identity, the beauty of aging — ourselves constantly shifting under our skins, like the earth beneath a clouded sky. Ephemeral bodies: are they as plain and empty as they may seem upon first glance? The visage of identity is a private affair shifting beneath the scars that cloud our skin. And between these lines — the scars upon you, the scars upon me, the scars upon this art — where falls the armistice line? Actions and interactions, selves and others — yet combined a history of mismatched missed connections. Inside our scars simmer the memory of what once was, once was hoped, once could have been. These malleable heads, susceptible even to the suggestions of a breeze, display the memories of an artist in action.
Victoria Starbuck
Wednesday 29 July 2020, 22:00
in Belgrade, Serbia

Fotos: Richard Hummel, 2020