Preparation:

Survey and secret confabulation at the school, a few months before, to get acquainted with the “exhibitors” and the non-exhibitors of the inauguration. Preparation of a few “slogans” by some students, displaying their “NON EXHIBITION.” Final consultation for the moment of intervention. Quiet and complicity before the arrival of the officials. Each player ready for the right moment. It was decided that I  start with my brief action which would close with general “fireworks.” It seems that I have planted seeds here and there on the soil of the school, my 22 mini-cartes blanches given to “non exhibitors” with their various texts, short and explicit.

Action:

Evening of the “showing.” Opening exhibition. My action will take place at the moment of official discourse. “Discretely” dressed in a black (otter) fur coat and black high-heels, I will distance myself from the crowd that is listening to the commentary about the event. I will take a central and intermediate position, between the line of spectators gathered standing up and a small group of “authorities.” Once in place, I will drop my fur coat to my feet. I remain naked in heels with this black drapery, wearing at my neck my student card at the end of a string. Surprise reaction commentated on by the press the next day and the day after that. The stop in the discourse was quickly overtaken by the speaker (mustached) who, with a keen eye and open smile, concluded, “We always have fun in the decorative arts.” According the interview survey for “reconstitution.” The director of the school, annoyed, would have seen it in a different light. During the time of my first  surprise, an “army” of a black marker, I wrote, visibly on my body, last name, first name, birthday, student card number. The public had had, themselves, their moment of distraction. They whispered, who, which, what, and plunged back into listening. Having finished my bodily inscriptions of belonging, I put my coat back on. I left the “scene” to meet up with the student accomplices. The group intervention will begin soon, with firecrackers, stink bombs and other ingredients to drive away the whole assembly. Had the discourse finished? Yes, according to the local press. Lots of noises, eruptions and smoke on the premises. It would finally seem  that the storm had passed, “all” would meet at the buffet...Official version of the Nice-Matin of the next day. I don’t remember anymore!

Critique:

This was again about fighting against frames, limits, the fixity of any work. The collective work infiltrates an issue there. “Group” work with collective reflection and taking of a personal position/stance. Using my unbridled “talent” to serve the common cause will henceforth be pretty rare. I was part of the lot named: student. I could only be allergic to the denomination and supplementary qualification which boxes in the human being, throughout his/her existence. Would the tone of the time have contributed to this state of mind? Certainly! But my “revolt/rebellion” will survive, in other ways, less direct, with its derivatives and diversions. My practice will continue to question. A game of the possible and the impossible. Response found, abandoned, illusory quest in experience...The fireworks will join the proclaimed truths. Each minute can change everything. The questionnaire on life remains open. For a new bait...