Biçak seven kadin, 2017
print on tarpaulin
40 x 60 cm
Courtesy the artist
Can striking out to hitchhike with no idea of where you are going generate art? In 2012, Alice Guittard stuck out her thumb in Iceland, holding a sign that said "Alveg sama", literally "it doesn’t matter". The experience led her to Arnarstapi, the starting point of Jules Verne’s adventure story "Journey to the Center of the Earth". She captured various aspects of her journey in the form of photographs taken only at night, then published them in a work she entitled "Your Country does not Exist".
Her travels, the random situations she has provoked and experienced in all corners of the globe have given the artist the raw material for work ceaselessly composed of plays on words, analogies, slippage. Work that is full of editions, images, texts, sculpture and above all experiments. Her work compresses her adventures into a magic capsule of tales. Entering her work means accepting – a bit like in House of Leaves (1) – that the content is paradoxically larger than the what contains it.
Her latest experiments explore the symbolic dimension of stone and fragments of marble slabs on which Alice Guittard has transferred black and white photographs. The images that come into existence embrace the snags and random roughness of the mineral surface, creating visual ellipses that could be the equivalent of micro-poems in dialogue with the exhibition space. It’s up to us to follow the paths between each of her works in a given territory. The path can be short if you are feeling lazy, it can be infinite if we give it our trust, so necessary to the artist. Regardless, the randomness of peregrination and semantic wanderings, even in a closed space, opens immense landscapes.
(1) Mark Z. Danielewski, House of Leaves, Ed. Denoël, 2002.