Hortus Vanitas
Ossuaire de céramique

Montreuil, 2020.
Grès porcelainé émaillé, biscuit, blanc de titane et vert de cuivre. /// Copper green glazed, white titanium & bisk porcelain stoneware .


During the confinement, I was locked down in my ceramic workshop.
The words « We will count our dead » gave me great anxiety and I started making ceramics bones in pile.
But outside, just in front of my window, the flowers were still blooming, spring was there as if nothing was happening so I modeled a vulva flower, growing from that pile of bones.

It echoes women resilience, even fading, vanishing, it rise : through the struggle. A still life installation, a stake of vanities, a tribute to the ghost of past women artists who accompanied my precious loneliness. 




Pendant le confinement, j'ai été enfermé dans mon atelier de céramique. Les mots «Nous compterons nos morts» m'ont donné une grande anxiété et j'ai commencé à modeler des os en céramique, un par un, et à les entasser .
Mais à l'extérieur, juste devant ma fenêtre, les fleurs fleurissaient encore, le printemps était là comme si de rien n'était alors j'ai modelé une fleur de vulve, poussant de ce tas d'os.
Cela faisait écho à la résilience des femmes, même en disparaissant, en se fânant, elle s'éleve : à travers la lutte. Une installation ‘nature morte’, un bûcher des vanités, un hommage aux fantômes des artistes femmes du passé qui ont accompagnés ma précieuse solitude.





During the confinement, I was locked down in my ceramic workshop. The words « We will count our dead » gave me great anxiety and I started making ceramics bones in pile to make a stake of vanity denouncing the faults of our society which led us to such a situation.
I was thinking for a while to do a tribute for witches convicted by society in past centuries, and somehow the situation we just lived can be seen as a consequence to this past history. As medicine seems to have been the central stage on which the war of modern science against woman was played out.

Being locked in my studio, I cherish the « Room of One’s Own » I felt so lucky to have, I was able to take care of my inner garden in that strange spring month. So I modeled a sexualized carnivorous flower that grows from the dead, from the pile of bones. A ceramic vulva flower, a sight « through the flower », through the struggle that represent being a woman.
The enclosed garden that grew on me during the time of quarantine is to preserved from the presence of a snake, it’s there crawling, in direction of the bones, in direction of the vulva.



dimensions:


(CC) CHARLOTTE CORNATON