Iris Terdjiman paints contemporary frescoes those can still be painted. Painted on fabric as to appear as close to the walls as possible these very large formats combine to form a chapel without altar or gods. There, horror lies next to transcendence; mass graves are displayed next to angels; lovers embraced ignore the skull a vanity appearing next to them. And in the middle of this rawness (of the mutilated flesh, as in Bacon’s paintings, or of emotions, as in Munch’s), religious scenes still manage to materialize. The large size of the paintings also allows different planes and scenes to coexist. Fragments coming from different worlds are meshed together, but no reading direction is imposed, and it is not possible to draw an unambiguous story out of these intermingled scenes. Through the expressionist strokes, the figures become patterns; the dripping allows distinct worlds to permeate each other; a skeleton turns into a whirlwind. What we see here is not a story being told, but a transmutation: gravity becomes grace. If a meaning is to emerge from this silent polyphony of souls, then it is a mysterious one. Symbols taken from various religious or esoteric traditions, Hebrew texts, rock song titles, formulas, parcels of icons combine to create a game of clues that challenges absurdism and signals the existence of a higher meaning even if it remains undecipherable.
Catherine Guesde
