fakewhale
maëlle dault
rémi guezodje
pierre ruault
liza maignan
francesca brugola
florian gaité
EN entretien avec andréa spartà
FR interview with andréa spartà
FR longlife
EN longlife
FR la vie en pire
EN life, worse
FR my head all full of stuffing, my heart all full of pain
EN my head all full of stuffing, my heart all full of pain
FR les yeux troubles de la voltigeuse sans lendemain
EN the hazy eyes of the one-night acrobat
FR entretien avec andréa spartà
EN interview with andréa spartà
FR a prova di
IT a prova di
FR au sujet du travail d'andréa spartà
EN about andréa spartà's work
Interview conducted on the occasion of the exhibition Weather Report for BalloonProject magazine.
Francesca Brugola / Can you tell us about your approach?
Andréa Spartà / I generally work by using things that strike me without any apparent reason, a piece of blue plastic around a peach, a garden hose, an antique vase, a faded menu from a Chinese restaurant, for example. Sometimes, the choice is not physical but more related to images. I don't know exactly what generates the choice, but it often has to do with a certain domesticity. From these things, from these images, I try to maintain a kind of framework, whether
through the original object or image. I then attempt to shift these frameworks, hybridize them, intersect them, and distort their familiarities while retaining enough to evoke a common mental image.
F.B / Where does your interest in everyday objects come from? And how does your personal interest and fascination with "normal" and daily objects and actions become a political act or stance?
A.S / I have always been interested in notions of domesticity; I wanted to be a designer when I was a child, and living spaces intrigue me. I first focused on furniture as a structure or support for our private lives. Over time, I became interested in the things that surround us, simply because they were there, just like me. I found it more interesting to approach things around me from this perspective rather than for intellectual considerations. A key piece in my practice was Couvertures (2018-...), an ongoing inventory of blankets used by soldiers from different armies around the world. It was during this period that I began to realize that things were happening, borders were shifting, tragedies were unfolding, but perhaps a gentle breeze was affecting a soldier's sleep as it would mine, and there was great intimacy and banality in that as well. The blankets did not tell that story; they were merely witnesses. There's a quote by Agnes Martin that encapsulates this well: "the wriggling of a worm is as important as the assassination of a president " I believe this is very true.
F.B / How do you think your research fits into contemporary artistic and socio-political discourse?
A.S / It's almost stating the obvious today, but this intimate and domestic dimension is often considered a place of resistance to capitalism and the idea of productive profitability. I am against the idea of purpose. I believe there is no reason for anything to exist; we exist without reason, we are here just because we are here, with no more reason than an onion or a beetle. Approaching things from this perspective is counterproductive, which I find interesting in today's world. I like the idea that we are here "for no reason." I concentrate all my efforts to make my work the same, for it not to be symbolic, not to convey something, not to serve as a support for something, but rather to be an end in itself. There is something beautiful in a fallen leek in a store if we accept that we are, just like it, a simple mass in space at a given moment, in a given place.
F.B / The use of reclaimed objects is a significant part of your work. Has this always been the case, or was there a triggering event? How does it affect your practice?
A.S / I'm very drawn to the idea of objects as witnesses in the things that surround us. I don't try to make things I use say anything specific but rather be sensitive to what they are. I've always collected material, whether tangible or in the form of images. In fact, it was primarily about images for a long time; I used patterns taken from the street, things I saw. I would then hybridize the memories of these different things. I like to perform the simplest actions possible, so it was natural for me to start using things themselves.
F.B / How does using reclaimed objects shape your approach to your work? Does it create a distance between you and the pieces?
A.S / With the things I collect, I try to provoke mental images. To do that, I have to avoid metaphors and literal interpretations. It's about finding a balance point to make an image emerge, however fragile it may be. This requires learning and listening to the things I use. Working in this way is very fulfilling, to stand in front of a garlic braid or plastic ties and see where they can lead us, just as much as the other way around. The distance that arises is similar, I believe, to the one we have when encountering a cat on the street, a step forward, a step back, so as not to rush the interaction.
F.B / How do the organic and inorganic coexist in your sculptures ?
A.S / I regularly use herbs or fruits and vegetables in my installations alongside more stable materials. This mix allows me to create installations with fixed structures, in which the material is constantly evolving, whether because the elements rot and wither or because they are simply replaced. For example, in "Weather Report," I simply place about 10% of my groceries in the installation, and I exchange them when I want to eat them. The installation directly reflects my pace of life.
F.B / What does artistic research mean to you? How do theory and practice intersect? If there is a meeting between the two.
A.S / I try to always have theory follow practice and not the other way around. This is related to the notion of learning that I mentioned earlier. I don't want to know too precisely where I'm going so as not to lose sight of what's happening. Words, for me, should only be a commentary, not a legitimation of something because they standardize and smooth everything. Jean Daniel Botta offers an interesting definition of poetry: "We give slightly less precise names so that the named things can regain their freedom." I believe that art has a lot to do with that.