A cry that resounded like an explosion of all the senses, ushered this “I” into a space with dimensions on another scale. It left the bilateral and enclosed maternal microcosm to enter a multi-relational and open space , with infinite possibilities of paths, roads, crossings, bridges, links to be created by way of overlays, juxtapositions, bridges yet to be traced, chronicled, to invented ..
It’s by going back to Oran, literally and figuratively, that I am reborn, each time different and each time questioning the notion of identity. What is identity? Is it the pretext (pre-text) to go to the source of one or various beginnings, and is this place of beginning not a point, but a series of points which together form lines, links, bridges that I mentally build as a profession of faith, in the name of a faith in the (re)birth of a 21st century Humanism. A Humanism to create, build, shape, an ideal for the here and now … An here and now where there would be no more Hell on Earth, but luminescence, light-essence, or light-birth …
If a painting could talk…
Text by Hélène Cohen, translated by Patrick Altes