Catherine Simon, SACD award ceremony (Brutalis)

Catherine Simon

A bright stain within the black magma: an isolated knee.

An angular line within the black magma: her arm, chiselled, her elbow, like an abrupt angle attached to nowhere.

A gnarled mass within the back magma: her back, play of muscles, knotted muscles, knotty quivering of muscles beneath the skin.

Fascination with this acute consciousness of the slightest angles and articulations.

Emotion arises out of this painstaking perfection, this implacable precision it imposes on each space of her body for an indisputably stunning creation, astounding in its rigour.

And all the while this black: charcoal, dust of charcoal drawing, earth, filth, an infinite precision to give the impression of a grimy line, a prodigious work with light to keep, evoke and sustain this sense of a “messy drawing.” I have always detested charcoal, charcoal drawings that had to be fixed… And then, I found this impression of something that isn’t fixed, of a drawing that decays and stains.

A surprising mixture of precision and flight (of fuzziness),

Light so as to better bring out the dust,

A black that spills over, the shadow that encroaches,

An impression of ink running, ink spilling over,

The soiled skin gently swayed by the light.

Like a soft brushstroke of light for a furtive attempt to leave the darkness and re-enter it at once.

And to speak of her is also to speak of humour, of her unshakeable humour.

Humour, her way of suddenly returning with a perfect smile, opaque white emerging from the darkness,

Humour, her silhouette in a long evening dress, impeccable, for precise gestures of a breathtaking elegance.

I only saw this show once, remembering it made me want to see it again – I hope it is presented again. That it will re-present.