After spending 3 months at Passerelle under the joint programme with DDA Bretagne Residency Workshops, Martin Routhe (1994) is presenting a personal exhibition. Martin graduated from Brest School of Art in 2023, is both a painter and a sculptor, and here offers a vast installation that functions as a whole.

The phrase “Where are you?” rings out as both a mantra and a cry. Those few very simple words are taken from some writing by the artist’s grandmother after her husband died. The exhibition takes as its starting point this intimate pain, the impression of emptiness and the metaphysical question of the presence of those who have left us. The works produced especially for the occasion show moments of life; the sculptures have a domestic appearance and recall the codes of furnishings. On the one hand there is the desire to reflect on the question of the decorative, in the manner of the artist Marc-Camille Chaimowicz (1947-2004), and on the other hand the idea of ‘filling the space’ like a doll’s house and seeking a potential soul in the objects that surround us. The works act as elements of non-verbal drama like those of artist Jessica Stockolder (1959). We are invited into an illusion where the borders of reality are blurred: gloves and shoes end up as sculptures, wrought iron door furniture turns into lamps. Objects have the potential for life like those in La belle et la bête (Beauty and the Beast) (1946) by Jean Cocteau or the Disney cartoon of the same name (1991). A single figure occupies the space, a rabbit recalling the one in Alice in Wonderland or Pokemon creatures. Martin Routhe is deeply influenced by the Japanese culture of the image and takes inspiration from the manga of the authors’ collective, CLAMP, in particular the character of Cardcaptor Sakura or the shop of the witch of xxxHOLiC, a timeless imaginary place. The visitor is invited to become a character in a manga, a three-dimensional cartoon, like the pair of legs, loosely inspired by a Tom and Jerry cartoon, landing in the middle of the motifs like a disturbing yet joyful element.

The title ‘Dis-moi que la nuit se déguise (Tell me the night is in disguise)’ is from a song by Mylène Farmer that reasons like a haiku. The poetry of these words takes us back to the reflections preoccupying the artist: What are the limits of our reality? By what artifice are we surrounded?