NON-EXISTING CITIES: LARA MATANA SENSE VOLUMETRIES
This is a story without a beginning. As is often the case with good stories. It is not possible to state where the artist's encounter with the matter would have occurred, or how this matter would have become, for the artist, a problem that demands many attempts at resolution. The creation time is not linear. Since that's about it, let's start in the middle: Lara Matana brings together an incredible variety of wood stumps, diversified shavings, sharp stalks, others rounded, all sorts of small pieces of wood, those abandoned by the corners of any carpentry shop. As if preparing to assemble a great puzzle, the artist, in her studio, organises in buckets the set of residues she gathered, according to quality (plywood, cedar, etc.), according to formal similarities, or according to specific preparations (sanding). , special painting, etc.), each time the hand reaches the bucket, one of these shavings is willing to traverse the sinuosities of the wood matter, experiencing the volume and its textures, or each time the eye examines its visible characteristics, appreciates formal qualities, this small object that the hand grasped in the bucket, among many others, is no longer waste, chips, stalks, carpentry offcuts, becoming pieces of an artwork. The ugly, dull or pathetic word that the poet's hand pulls out of the vocabulary bucket becomes unique, potent. The sorted waste then acts like any other matter (pigment, clay, word, sound) under equal conditions of engendering effect. This is the alchemy of creation. It is touching to watch the transformation of the stumps of Lara Matana. In the case of your tree rebuilt in new terms even though its principles are slightly different but with undeniable similarities, the transformation is dramatic.
What does Lara Matana build with the stumps? Cities. Especially when we appreciate their objects from above, we experience the overview of a complex landscape. A rugged topography, a singular volume. We could say that they are cities or spaces made up of proximity relations, which harbor flows, and which make up heterogeneities. But two desires enact the basic conflict of their dynamics: reproduce, combine, organize or invent, break, schizophrenic. That is why some of Lara Matana's objects, volumes whose meaning is the city, desire order; they are made up of finer pieces, well-finished pieces that want to produce harmonious, pleasant, comfortable wholes, garden cities, more to the taste of architects. Here, we almost forgot that these pieces were waste. But the second desire quickly manifests itself in other of their cities: unattractive, but rude, rude, without regularity, often unpleasant, threatening to scratch us to the touch. However, it is rather a territory of multiplicities, inhabited by more variable speeds, capable of engendering more intense situations. Nietzsche would say that the former are Apollonian, the latter Dionysian. It is not, of course, about choosing, affirming one and denying another. Both desires, or artistic drives, are modes of expansion of all that lives. The risk of the canonical option for the former is, for fear of pain, no longer living. On the other, to live longer, to be engulfed in drunkenness and to liquefy