Life! Life! Life!

Life! Life! Life!
How to use a libidinal economy
Pascal Beausse


Laurent Faulon methodically dismembers—in the symbolic sense of course —the civilised human being. The libidinal theatre on whose stage social rituals are played is his place of work. The spectator of one of his actions or a witness of one of his situations, you are gained by a troubling feeling of déja vu. You recognise places, objects, images… You recognise them so well that their presence out of context disturbs you: what familiarity! Your life has been formed in the company of all these silent things. You have incorporated them in your environment, without even thinking about it. All the material items used by the artist are drawn from the clutter that forms your very life—the heap of things that surround you, that wear on your body and that you ingurgitate. All these things clustered around your body, that clump together on the surface of your skin and go as far as penetrating via orifices to irrigate your organs and that you don't seem to be able to do without. In truth, because you have to admit it, you would not be able to do without the nonetheless strange company of these everyday consumer objects, these diabolically animated machines that fetter your life by giving you an entirely fallacious impression of freedom. All the fetishes that civilisation invents to reassure human beings faced with their finiteness. All these possessions that the suicidal family described by Michael Haneke in his film The Seventh Continent (1989) destroys methodically before they all kill themselves. To disappear without leaving a trace. To negate the value of material things—going as far as the absolute taboo of flushing money down the toilet. The ultimate revenge on consumerism before nihilistic destruction. Death will not release them.
The artist is not a shaman; he will not relieve you of the unpleasant feeling of being lastingly subjected to the economic and social order. The artist is not a moralist; he will not show you how to think well.
The artist catalyses the anguish that links you to the collective nightmare. He brings everything to the surface. Using very few items judiciously positioned in space he invites you to a disturbing experience, but one that is never traumatic. You will recognise much of what you might have experienced yourself.
Laurent Faulon favours abandoned sites, shattered ruins, buildings under construction and deconsecrated venues, inviting spectators to take an exploratory walk, to encounter strange situations. The disturbing aspect comes from the coupling and the movement of things. Paysage de fantaisie. Vibrating sausages emerge from mattresses. Old stained mattresses laid on the floor. Ripped open. Fungi and moulds. Phalluses evoking terrible power-taking. All the figures of authority are called upon here to suffer in return the indignity of their pretension to take control of lives.
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