What is left of mankind after a disaster? For Christine Coste a heavy body, petrified, charred, reduced to its bare legs, with awkward shoes on its feet and a flaccid penis; a body stopped abruptly in its course but not in its memory. A stethoscope, plugged on its testicles is all that’s needed. Scraps of figures appear or reappear on the wall in front of it, splinters of deadly sexual urges.
At the other end of the stethoscope, women faces, menacing masks, organic elements unfolding into porcelain medallions, scattered heartbeats of life, sharp or diffuse.
Their timeless cosmogony sheds light on the unspeakable as much as on actions, what’s left unsaid, secrets. Red, pink, and gray tones quiver in opposition to the dark totemic ceramic mass: chestless, faceless. The back and forth flux creates confusion, challenges the status quo, reveals its contrast.
With eroscopie, Coste sculpts and installs elements of the psyche, confronted/opposed to chaos, to silence. Reignited by metaphors/metamorphoses. The work of art becomes exorcism, a fairytale or a fable of the pathologies of mankind and today’s world. Here, memory is revived, animated, and turned into an unheimlich, jolt of vulnerability and consciousness.
Christine Coste, journalist for theJournal des Arts and l'Oeil
exhibition catalogue, 3 regards sur la céramique contemporaine