Childhood at the Palais de Tokyo...
11:42 p.m.
24/09/18 - The curatorial team at the Palais de Tokyoin Paris organized an exhibition around the idea of Childhood, a period of our life marked by the sense of awe caused by each moment. With this in mind, visitors are invited to dive into their childhood memories and reflect on the influence they might have had in their adult identity.
The visit begins with a dollhouse, but not for dolls, for grownups, with real-size objects, room divisions and decorations. The installation belongs to Japanese artist Amabouz Taturo.
Amabouz Taturo
Palais de Tokyo, Paris
Anna Hulacová (Czech Republic, 1984) takes us to a kitchen, the meeting point of the family (according to the artist). It looks like it’s breakfast time, although the frozen and alien-like figures seem taken from a dystopian story, much like what’s usually on display at the Palais de Tokyo. The mother has a hole in the head, with a drawing of an orchid inside, transforming her into a sexual object. The father, faceless, seems to be preparing the breakfast, although he has no hands to perform the task. The other figure, sitting at the table, with an opened body showing his insides, looks like their son. The installation is completed with a series of elements that are ghostly fragments of kitchenware. This mutant family invites us to reconsider, not only this particular group, but humanity as a whole, through the artist’s cynical vision.
Good morning, morning, by Anna Hulacová (2018)
After the kitchen, we reach a playground, barely illuminated. The gloomy figures represent dragons playing at the seesaw. They are chimeric characters that invite us to play, but are rejected because they look scary. This installation represents the fear we must overcome as a child to get what we want.
La Récréation, by Clément Cogítore
In another floor a large portrait of a boy occupies the entire wall. As we get closer, the image becomes less focused. The photo was taken from an image bank and has been pixelated to make it anonymous. We feel the need to move away, since it reminds us of an image taken from police records or of the son of someone famous that pretends not to be recognized.
La Porte de la Désolation, by
The same room is shared by the hyper realistic small sculptures by Tomoaki Suzuki, placed all around, so we must constantly dodge them. Their 60 cm height make us bend down to see them up-close. There’s no interaction between them, they are simply placed randomly, representing our apparently hyper-connected society.
Dasha, by Tomoaki Suzuki (2015)
Materials: lime wood and acrylic paint
Carson, by Tomoaki Suzuki (2009)
Materials: lime wood and acrylic paint
Kadeen and Kyrone, by Tomoaki Suzuki (2014)
Materials: lime wood and acrylic paint
Lucy, by Tomoaki Suzuki (2018)
Materials: lime wood and acrylic paint
This is an hallucinatory fairytale, where the fear and fascination of our earlier years lie in the labyrinth of our dreams. This is not a nostalgic vision, but more a transgressor one. As if crossing Alice’s looking glass, we are given the chance, so usual in Contemporary Art, to play with our perception.
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