La pratique d’Elvire Bonduelle est tout entière orientée vers une exigeante quête du bonheur à laquelle elle s’astreint avec toutes sortes d’outils, dessin, sculpture, vidéo et bientôt peinture.
Pour Elvire Bonduelle, l’art peut être joli, léger, mais pas frivole ; une vraie autorité émane en réalité de son œuvre. Diplômée de l’Énsb-a de Paris en 2005, elle a décidé de plier sa vie à l’exigence d’un bonheur optimiste, à l’encontre du mythe de l’artiste maudit et malheureux. Elle parle de « sculpture de soi». Sa fraîcheur revendiquée vient de là, mais n’existerait pas sans la conscience de la difficulté de l’existence – ce n’est pas possible d’être seulement sérieux.
Il est tentant de rattacher l’œuvre d’Elvire Bonduelle à l’histoire de l’art. Ses objets rappellent parfois les formes de l’art minimal, comme Wood is Good (2012), un fauteuil en bois articulé par des charnières, que l’on peut déplier jusqu’à le mettre à plat. Donald Judd fait partie
des artistes qu’elle admire le plus, avec Sol Le- Witt, et Bruce Nauman qui la fascine par les paradoxes qu’il met en œuvre dans ses vidéos. Mais la notion d’ornement est aussi très présente dans son travail, et elle cite volontiers les écrits de William Morris et le mouvement Arts and Craft. On pense à l’humour et à la malice de François Morellet, aux collections d’images absurdes de Taroop & Glabel, aux constructions irréelles d’Andrea Zittel. La pratique d’Elvire Bonduelle échappe aux catégories, elle est surtout intuitive, et se glisse dans le cours de l’histoire en empruntant ses contradictions.
DICTATRICE DU BONHEUR
Dans son programme, elle s’est elle-même proclamée, il y a quelques années, « dictatrice du bonheur », grimée avec des mous- taches d’Hitler... roses. Elle a fabriqué des instruments pour être heureux, un Sèche- larmes ou un Tire-bouche, qui ressemblaient à des instruments de torture, ou plutôt aux machines malicieuses que Jacques Tati a filmées d’un œil tendre et amusé. Puis elle a inventé des Cales pour que l’on puisse s’installer confortablement dans la vie, morceaux de mousse couverts de tissus peints en imitation bois ; ce sont des sièges-lits- chauffeuses modulables en fonction de l’espace et des corps. Il y a beaucoup de chaises dans l’œuvre d’Elvire Bonduelle, en particulier des Rocking-chairs et des Rocking-transats, parce qu’on peut s’asseoir dessus pour regarder le monde. En résidence au Canada, elle a décidé de réaliser elle-même une paire de Berceuses (en canadien : fauteuil à bascule), comme il en existe là-bas dans les jardins devant les pavillons de banlieue. Elle a ensuite décliné cette idée en différentes variantes plus ou moins reconnaissables et praticables, en métal ou en bois. Il y a peu de temps qu’elle délègue la production de ses œuvres ; elle les a longtemps fabriquées elle-même, pour la « tendresse du bois », et l’intimité avec les matériaux qui se tisse quand on les travaille de près.
Quelque chose la fait rêver – entre le rêve et le cauchemar – dans les paysages des banlieues pavillonnaires où elle part souvent se promener en voiture pour observer toutes sortes de détails architecturaux, fantaisies dans ce monde trop normé. Une série est née de ces dérives suburbaines, les Dessins à la règle. Elle les poursuit depuis 2007, régulièrement, comme des respirations ; elle en a même fait des livres. À sa table de travail, elle trace une ligne avec un double décimètre, et d’une traite, en improvisant, laisse venir à sa mémoire des formes et des couleurs. C’étaient d’abord des intérieurs, à l’époque où elle n’avait pas vraiment d’atelier pour travailler, puis des pavillons de banlieues (Maison, voiture, chien), parfois aussi des de- meures monumentales. Quelques rehauts de couleurs soulignent les profondeurs. La dernière série s’intitule les Vertus ; Elvire Bonduelle a rêvé d’un promoteur immobilier qui demanderait à chaque propriétaire quelle vertu il voudrait voir inscrite sur sa maison : « Calme et sérénité », « Paix / Peace / Friede », peut-on lire à un balcon, sur des volets ou sur un toit.
UN MEILLEUR MONDE
Car Elvire Bonduelle aime les mots. Elle écrit des chansons légères et entêtantes dont les paroles sont un peu « l’esprit de ses œuvres ». Depuis longtemps, elle lit le Monde, « un peu comme [elle] ferait sa prière ». C’est parce que cette lecture était trop violente qu’elle a conçu le meilleur Monde, édition spéciale du quotidien, réalisée en trois mois au cours desquels elle a découpé et rassemblé exclusivement les bonnes nouvelles (et qui n’a rien de l’atmosphère terrifiante du Meilleur des mondes d’Aldous Huxley). El Païs l’a invitée à créer de même El mejor Païs, juste au moment, et c’était un hasard, où le mouvement des Indignados s’est déclaré à Madrid. Elle a distribué ces journaux de bonnes nouvelles dans la rue, au cours de quelques performances.
Dans les arènes d’Arles, elle donnait aussi aux passants ses parapluies-ombrelles en couvertures de survie, petits modules portatifs de bonheur, protégeant du soleil et de la pluie ; El- vire Bonduelle les a créés pour l’exposition To the Moon via the Beach qui était organisée par Philippe Parreno et Liam Gillick (voir art press n°395). Ils s’intitulent Modules lunaires individuels, d’après les LEM (Lunar Excursion Module), vaisseaux qui ont permis aux astronautes de descendre de leur fusée pour mar- cher sur la Lune. Ce contexte d’une exposition collective conçue par des artistes, Elvire Bonduelle en est familière ; elle-même joue (dans une moindre mesure) régulièrement le rôle de commissaire d’exposition pour partager des connivences artistiques.
Aujourd’hui elle a décidé d’apprendre la peinture à l’huile. Elle a commencé par faire fabriquer des châssis en forme d’arcs en plein cintre, dont elle a assumé les finitions. Un petit retable qu’elle vient d’achever avec des chutes de bois est accroché au mur de son atelier. C’est la question du sacré qui l’intéresse dans ces objets, pas celle de la religion mais une forme encore plus grande d’intimité avec les objets. Selon ses propres termes, elle allie l’art et la vie, le fonctionnel.
Anaël Pigeat, Art press N°397, février 2013
Elvire Bonduelle is engaged in a demanding quest for happiness that obliges her to use all sorts of media ―drawing, sculpture, video and now painting.
Elvire Bonduelle thinks that art should be pretty and light but never frivolous. On the contrary, her work exudes authority. After graduating from fine arts school in 2005 she decided to dedicate her life to a serious quest for happiness, optimism totally in contrast to the cliché of the wretched artiste maudit. She likes to talk about “self-sculpture.” This is the source of a studied fresh- ness that could not exist without a consciousness of the difficulty of existence. The seriousness and joy go together. It’s tempting to see Bonduelle in an art historical light. Her objects sometimes bring to mind Minimalism, as with Wood is Good (2012), a hinged wooden armchair that can be unfolded and laid out flat. Among the artists she admires most are Donald Judd, obviously, Sol LeWitt, and Bruce Nauman, whose videos fascinate her because of the way they are built around paradoxes. But at the same time her work displays a fond- ness for ornamentation, and she readily cites the writings of William Morris and the Arts and Crafts movement. We’re also re- minded of the mischievous humor of François Morellet, Taroop & Glabel’s collections of absurd images and the unreal constructions of Andrea Zittel. Bonduelle’s practice is not categorically correct. She works by intuition. Tiptoeing through art history, she plucks out its contradictions.
A DICTATOR OF HAPPINESS
A few years ago, in explaining her project, she proclaimed herself “a dictator of happiness,” illustrated by a representation of herself made up to look like Hitler with a pink moustache. She made instruments of happiness, such as a Sèche-larmes (Tear Dryer) and Tire-bouche (Mouth Puller), meant to resemble instruments of torture, or rather the playful, machines filmed with a mixture of mockery and indulgence by Jacques Tati. Then she invented Cales (Wedges), pieces of foam covered with imitation-wood fabric designed to offer a comfortable seat in existence. These armless easy chairs fold out into beds and can be configured to fit the particular body and space. In fact, Bonduelle has made all kinds of chairs, especially Rocking Chairs and Rocking Transats (Deck Chairs), so that people can have a place to sit while they watch the world. During a residency in Canada, she decided to make a pair of her own version of the rocking chairs found in Quebec suburban front yards. Then she proceeded to make metal and wood variations on this theme, of varying degrees of recognizability and practicality. For a long time she made all her artworks herself because of the “tenderness” she found in wood and the closeness to the materials that comes from working with them yourself. Recently she decided to delegate the work to others. There is something that sets her to dreaming―and sometimes having night- mares―when she drives through suburban landscapes to observe the architectural de- tails of the single-family houses, a bit of caprice in an overly standardized world. One of these frequent aimless excursions resulted in the series Dessins à la règle (Ruler Drawings). Since 2007 she has produced works in this series as regularly as breathing in and out, and even filled a few books with them. Sitting at her worktable she traces a line with a medium-sized ruler, and at one stroke improvises, letting herself be guided by the shapes and colors that emerge from her memory. When she first started, at a time when she didn’t have her own studio to work in, she drew interiors, and later, suburban homes (Maison, Voiture, Chien / House, Car, Dog). Sometimes she drew mansions. A few color highlights brought out depth. For her latest series, titled Les Vertus, she had the idea of a real estate agent who would ask homeowners to name a virtue to be written on their property. Words like “Calm and serenity” and “Paix/Peace/Friede” can be read on a balcony, shutters or a roof.
A BETTER WORLD
Bonduelle loves words. She writes light- hearted, catchy songs whose lyrics express “the spirit of my work.” She has long read Le Monde religiously, “as if saying my prayers.” Because there was too much violence in this newspaper, she conceived a special edition called Le meilleur Monde (The Better World), assembled by cutting out nothing but good news for three months to produce a kind of answer to Aldous Huxley’s terrifying Brave New World. The Spanish newspaper El Pais invited her to do the same. By chance the Indignados movement broke out in Madrid just at that moment. She distributed her newspaper full of good news in the streets during a few performances. In front of the Roman amphitheater in Arles she gave passers-by umbrellas made of survival blankets, little portable modules of happiness for protection from the rain and sun. Bonduelle had invented them for the exhibition To the Moon via the Beach organized by Philippe Parreno and Liam Gillick (see art press 395). She called them Individual Lunar Excursion Modules, named after the landing vehicles astronauts used to descend from their rockets and explore the moon’s surface. Bonduelle has participated in many collective exhibitions run by artists and at times likes to play the curator to enjoy the shared artistic connivance. Now she has decided to take up oil pan- ting. She started out by having stretchers made in the shapes of arcs, to which she in- tends to put the finishing touches. Hanging on a wall in her studio is a small altarpiece she’s just made of scraps of wood. What interests her about such things is the question of the sacred, not a religious sacredness but a way to get even closer to objects. She says that this is a way to bring together art and the functional―i.e., life.
Art press N°397, February 2013 Translation, L-S Torgoff
Elvire Bonduelle thinks that art should be pretty and light but never frivolous. On the contrary, her work exudes authority. After graduating from fine arts school in 2005 she decided to dedicate her life to a serious quest for happiness, optimism totally in contrast to the cliché of the wretched artiste maudit. She likes to talk about “self-sculpture.” This is the source of a studied fresh- ness that could not exist without a consciousness of the difficulty of existence. The seriousness and joy go together. It’s tempting to see Bonduelle in an art historical light. Her objects sometimes bring to mind Minimalism, as with Wood is Good (2012), a hinged wooden armchair that can be unfolded and laid out flat. Among the artists she admires most are Donald Judd, obviously, Sol LeWitt, and Bruce Nauman, whose videos fascinate her because of the way they are built around paradoxes. But at the same time her work displays a fond- ness for ornamentation, and she readily cites the writings of William Morris and the Arts and Crafts movement. We’re also re- minded of the mischievous humor of François Morellet, Taroop & Glabel’s collections of absurd images and the unreal constructions of Andrea Zittel. Bonduelle’s practice is not categorically correct. She works by intuition. Tiptoeing through art history, she plucks out its contradictions.
A DICTATOR OF HAPPINESS
A few years ago, in explaining her project, she proclaimed herself “a dictator of happiness,” illustrated by a representation of herself made up to look like Hitler with a pink moustache. She made instruments of happiness, such as a Sèche-larmes (Tear Dryer) and Tire-bouche (Mouth Puller), meant to resemble instruments of torture, or rather the playful, machines filmed with a mixture of mockery and indulgence by Jacques Tati. Then she invented Cales (Wedges), pieces of foam covered with imitation-wood fabric designed to offer a comfortable seat in existence. These armless easy chairs fold out into beds and can be configured to fit the particular body and space. In fact, Bonduelle has made all kinds of chairs, especially Rocking Chairs and Rocking Transats (Deck Chairs), so that people can have a place to sit while they watch the world. During a residency in Canada, she decided to make a pair of her own version of the rocking chairs found in Quebec suburban front yards. Then she proceeded to make metal and wood variations on this theme, of varying degrees of recognizability and practicality. For a long time she made all her artworks herself because of the “tenderness” she found in wood and the closeness to the materials that comes from working with them yourself. Recently she decided to delegate the work to others. There is something that sets her to dreaming―and sometimes having night- mares―when she drives through suburban landscapes to observe the architectural de- tails of the single-family houses, a bit of caprice in an overly standardized world. One of these frequent aimless excursions resulted in the series Dessins à la règle (Ruler Drawings). Since 2007 she has produced works in this series as regularly as breathing in and out, and even filled a few books with them. Sitting at her worktable she traces a line with a medium-sized ruler, and at one stroke improvises, letting herself be guided by the shapes and colors that emerge from her memory. When she first started, at a time when she didn’t have her own studio to work in, she drew interiors, and later, suburban homes (Maison, Voiture, Chien / House, Car, Dog). Sometimes she drew mansions. A few color highlights brought out depth. For her latest series, titled Les Vertus, she had the idea of a real estate agent who would ask homeowners to name a virtue to be written on their property. Words like “Calm and serenity” and “Paix/Peace/Friede” can be read on a balcony, shutters or a roof.
A BETTER WORLD
Bonduelle loves words. She writes light- hearted, catchy songs whose lyrics express “the spirit of my work.” She has long read Le Monde religiously, “as if saying my prayers.” Because there was too much violence in this newspaper, she conceived a special edition called Le meilleur Monde (The Better World), assembled by cutting out nothing but good news for three months to produce a kind of answer to Aldous Huxley’s terrifying Brave New World. The Spanish newspaper El Pais invited her to do the same. By chance the Indignados movement broke out in Madrid just at that moment. She distributed her newspaper full of good news in the streets during a few performances. In front of the Roman amphitheater in Arles she gave passers-by umbrellas made of survival blankets, little portable modules of happiness for protection from the rain and sun. Bonduelle had invented them for the exhibition To the Moon via the Beach organized by Philippe Parreno and Liam Gillick (see art press 395). She called them Individual Lunar Excursion Modules, named after the landing vehicles astronauts used to descend from their rockets and explore the moon’s surface. Bonduelle has participated in many collective exhibitions run by artists and at times likes to play the curator to enjoy the shared artistic connivance. Now she has decided to take up oil pan- ting. She started out by having stretchers made in the shapes of arcs, to which she in- tends to put the finishing touches. Hanging on a wall in her studio is a small altarpiece she’s just made of scraps of wood. What interests her about such things is the question of the sacred, not a religious sacredness but a way to get even closer to objects. She says that this is a way to bring together art and the functional―i.e., life.
Art press N°397, February 2013 Translation, L-S Torgoff