About

 

‘A human document’

Caroline Brisset makes often huge, and always complex energetic sculpture.

They express all the weakness and strengths that we as humans experience as part of our emotional lives.

In me they provoke visceral reactions with their deep instinctive feel for shaping the hard stuff that steel is. She works creating chaos around her by cutting irregular shapes of steel a sort of emotional  deconstruction which then becomes poetically reconstructed into human forms.

I realised when watching Brisset’s process that she is looking at these intricate, complex deconstructions and is flaying emotion itself, and recreating it with her sliver’s of steel, her hammer of Thor and the lightening of Zeus, that these are homages to emotion itself. Her precise sculptural ingenuity makes her art powerful and strangely fragile.

Looking at her fractured, welded steel figures  reminds me of Donatello’s ‘The Penitent Magdalene’ in the Museo dell’Opera del Duomo in Florence, which also casts dramatic shadows, creating feelings of organic matter, flying to find its place. Brisset talks openly about her abstract surreal dreams, a playground or a rehearsal for her sculptural expression perhaps. She tells me  …..’the memory of the shape is still there i can see it in my my feelings’

The sculptures are born from a drumming dance, a ritual with hammers, pliers & plasma. Brisset destroys in order to create new form, the steel remarkably malleable  in her hands.

The work shocks me out of my conventional references and catapults me into that place that I love, of empathy towards humans and animals.

I feel that I know them, had tea with them, heard their stories.

Isabel H Langtry Sculptor and Principal Hampstead School of Art, London

 

Au-delà de la matière, l’apparition d’un ailleurs

Au commencement était la matière. De ce métal dont on fait une œuvre. Caroline Brisset, artiste plasticienne, le sait mieux que quiconque. Depuis qu’elle s’est lancée tout entière – corps, cœur et esprit – dans une traversée au long cours de rêves et d’acier. Une odyssée artistique déjà bien engagée qui voit Pénélope prendre le large, sans attendre quiconque, et révéler au monde les formes de métal transfiguré qui sont autant d’escales sur cette route singulière que l’artiste nous invite à tracer avec elle. Avec ses tempêtes rageuses et ses calmes déroutants.
Quand la stature monumentale d’un Lemmy ou d’un Roland-Garros embrassant les nuages (Cloud kisser) côtoie la dentelle d’une fine armure transhumaniste nourrie de poésie plutôt que de technologie (Liam) ou un Parapluie rouge traversé de gouttes de métal, comme des traits inévitables, qui ne protège en rien nos indigentes existences…
Les deux échelles, du spectaculaire à l’intime – et inversement, se nourrissent l’une de l’autre dans l’œuvre de Caroline Brisset. C’est une évidence. Partout l’on retrouve cette manière, artisanale mais libre, transgressive, de transformer le métal pour que, jamais, il ne reste inerte ni pesant. Même lorsqu’elle sculpte le Poilu pour les cérémonies de la fin de la Première guerre mondiale en Belgique, soldat dont le buste seul semble sortir de la terre des tranchées, le sens apparaît – comme une pirouette cruelle – lorsqu’en se rapprochant du buste massif, l’on découvre une barbe composée de longues douilles d’armes offensives.
Il est là le talent de Caroline Brisset. Dans cette évanescence, cette délicatesse non dénuée d’humour, parfois caustique, qui transcende la matière, acceptant le hasard pour mieux le contraindre au-delà de l’attente initiale. Et si l’on peut se figurer l’énergie indispensable du geste artistique, jamais – élégance extrême – l’artiste ne la dévoile. Elle nous invite à son bord pour découvrir un monde. Celui de ses émotions et, donc, des nôtres. L’apparition d’un ailleurs au-delà de la matière brute.

​​​​​​​​​​Franck CASSARD

 

LITTLE BASTARD from Harun Hazar on Vimeo.

Teaser by Hypercut pruction

Video by Naomi Bleiberg

Through sculpture, installation and display, as a craftsman, an artist or a designer, I am a metal worker — We don’t care status when we speak about matter.
I tirelessly try to modify the invisible particles of steel. To cause a shift in the habit, I especially try to move the atoms to the limits of their capabilities. I look for contradiction between act and shape, and try to feel through my sculptures that this material is discontinuous, fragile,  full of emptiness, and both very dense, heavy, and bulky.
Find a breath in the inert mass.
In doing so, I often unconsciously seek that the appearance of the material is in conflict with its composition.
They are not representations of ideas or feelings, but tangible expressions of the very metal — its shape, its volume, its temperature, its balance, poetics which emanate.
Every form is moving, in a short-lived balance. Any change is a disaster, and any disaster a resurrection.
I handle metal, trying to reveal its inherent energy. I try to consider all its properties. I explore its limits, its physical possibilities. I heat it, pound it, twist it. I try to make it say something itself. This may be a feeling of intense heaviness, or on the contrary a delicacy, an unusual fragility, or otherwise an imbalance which by posture and shape disturbs.
It’s an open dialogue with the material.
Then, the formal capacities are revealed in a material that becomes an object marked with a singular identity, which sometimes comes within organic and living.