Pauline Coquart
No Funny Business
May 19 - June 9, 2023
Foto Credits: Pauline Coquart
Through the negating wraith of the presence of an absence, Pauline Coquart dwells in delay. Longing in the ruins of corporate offices and pouting processions, signs remain signs without much signification: their functional use is laid bare and foiled in a defunct contemplation of a bespectacled tower. Still, an invisible hand shores up Switzerland’s tallest tower and the rise of its fall is averted: facing bodies are cropped and stopped in their tracks, concealing the make-up of their masks.
In place of an angel sits a dog on a stool and waits. She turns her back from the tower and staggers computed pasts and imputed futures in a reconstituted presence. Between the shimmering reflections and sulking perceptions of a nostalgic attachment to exhausted conventions, loops and mirrors lurch and try to stave off the dudgeon of their prime origins, sundered in fragmented relics beseeching second sight.
The double bind of an echoing break-up is hinged: the tower’s name is 2, and the hand is not the first. The toilets seats too are two, and pivot around their lids: resurfaced in confetti and distorted through opaque funny money, yet, they remain to be cleaned.
Unruffled pixels brisk up the smiley of a sponge, sweeping the parade of a carnival: as receptive as expressive, its pull propels the flows and ebbs of a toxic relationship into trash, without leaving a trace.
Non Binary: a glossy topcoat reveals a face, rear mirroring a yarn that doesn't concrete ‧₊˚⊹
Text by Matthias Paulus for the exhibition No Funny Business by Pauline Coquart
And now,
For our greatest pleasure,
I am pleased to welcome on stage,
The famous number :
‘Giving no shit with both hands’
Feeling very protected in this city,
Surrounded.
It really feels like a hug.
Poems written by Antoine Weil for the exhibition No Funny Business by Pauline Coquart
Pauline Coquart
No Funny Business
May 19 - June 9, 2023
Foto Credits: Pauline Coquart
Through the negating wraith of the presence of an absence, Pauline Coquart dwells in delay. Longing in the ruins of corporate offices and pouting processions, signs remain signs without much signification: their functional use is laid bare and foiled in a defunct contemplation of a bespectacled tower. Still, an invisible hand shores up Switzerland’s tallest tower and the rise of its fall is averted: facing bodies are cropped and stopped in their tracks, concealing the make-up of their masks.
In place of an angel sits a dog on a stool and waits. She turns her back from the tower and staggers computed pasts and imputed futures in a reconstituted presence. Between the shimmering reflections and sulking perceptions of a nostalgic attachment to exhausted conventions, loops and mirrors lurch and try to stave off the dudgeon of their prime origins, sundered in fragmented relics beseeching second sight.
The double bind of an echoing break-up is hinged: the tower’s name is 2, and the hand is not the first. The toilets seats too are two, and pivot around their lids: resurfaced in confetti and distorted through opaque funny money, yet, they remain to be cleaned.
Unruffled pixels brisk up the smiley of a sponge, sweeping the parade of a carnival: as receptive as expressive, its pull propels the flows and ebbs of a toxic relationship into trash, without leaving a trace.
Non Binary: a glossy topcoat reveals a face, rear mirroring a yarn that doesn't concrete ‧₊˚⊹
Text by Matthias Paulus for the exhibition No Funny Business by Pauline Coquart
And now,
For our greatest pleasure,
I am pleased to welcome on stage,
The famous number :
‘Giving no shit with both hands’
Feeling very protected in this city,
Surrounded.
It really feels like a hug.
Poems written by Antoine Weil for the exhibition No Funny Business by Pauline Coquart