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Brochure
for Jean Suquet,
Voyage through the Large Glass,
Centre Georges Pompidou, 24 October, 1995-12 February, 1996
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A note on the translation:
Some French words from the original have been included in this translation
to show the wordplay that takes place in Jean Suquet's text which cannot
be translated exactly into English. Also, in the original, several words
were italicized for emphasis. Those words have been underlined in the
translation since the added French has been set off in italics, as is
customary. These minor adjustments have been made in order for the reader
to appreciate as much of the intentioned subtlety as possible.
A
slide of the Large Glass is projected onto the white wall of
a room in a garret.
On the right, a door, it's obvious.
Closed.
The narrator enters into the projection cone and, having become prey
to the cast shadows,
he transfuses his breath into them.
Duchamp left three-fourths of the Large Glass transparent so
that in the filigree of the extravagant machinery parading in the
foreground we could read a poem.
Without words [mots], with no motor [moteur].
The initial lighting crackles with the title: The Bride stripped
bare by her bachelors, even. In the sky, the Bride.
On the ground, the bachelors.
Between them, the horizon line.
This line,
Duchamp says, is the Bride's clothing.
Poor bachelors
dreaming of stripping her bare!
They carry before them in their own gaze the veil they can't wait
to unfasten.
The horizon
line is an imaginary boundary that recedes as one moves towards it.
An inevitable
escape from which the bachelors will have to disenchant themselves.
Let's join the nine red fellows who look like our brothers. Dressed
in tight uniforms, nailed to the ground by their lead soles, they're
nevertheless in a flutter by a leak of illuminating gas, which in
1912 was the blood of the city lights.
This spirit
rushes into a journey through which must pass all states of matter.
Solidified and liquefied into a puddle, it wanders around until some
weight, falling down from who knows where, makes it splash out.
It explodes.
It declares
its flame.
It is dazzled
by its own light that is projected into the sky by a playful configuration
of mirrors.
In the sky,
the Bride is nude in every sense of the word. She unfastens her clothing,
which falls to her feet and covers the world around.
She escapes
all outline, denies all representation.
On the Large Glass we can only make |
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out
a hieroglyph too difficult to decode until we recognize,
within it, the jagged chrysalis of a queen bee that the nuptial
flight has dissolved into the clouds.
This queen is
alive. Her pulse beats. From fair weather to tempests,
she blossoms into a milky way flesh color. And the
flesh is made word.
Some letters, carried by the wind, bring orders
and authorizations to the bachelors.
Oh yes! In the Large Glass, the woman dictates law. How
does she have her will come down to the ground?
Thanks to a deus ex machina which links the top and the bottom.
Duchamp personified it with a pedestal table. The god knocks at
the door dressed up like a vagabond.
The goddess dresses up like a whore and cracks the vocabulary
with her hot lips.
This last
guest to the wedding is announced: the Tender of Gravity.
A doctor, undisciplined in the transparency, not only takes action
so that the weighty time [le pesante heure] gets rid of
gravity [la pesanteur], but he also gives his remedy to
anyone who cares to hear it: so heal! [guéris donc!]
And if
you're cheerful, then laugh! [Et si tu es gai, ris donc!]
To heal gravity is to laugh.
And so, resumed in long strides, is the fairy tale of modern times,
which tells us how the journey of the illuminating gas ends in
l'éblouissement [the dazzling].
How the flight of the Bride drives it towards l'épanouissement
[the blossoming].
Powered by la jouissance [sensual pleasure].
At the heart of these three words, if one hasn't lost the innocence
of looking for "or" [gold] in "oreille"
[ear], here is the word at the end:
OUI [YES].
The narrator walks back through the cast shadows, pushes the door,
leaves.
In other words, he ENTERS the Large Glass.
In the black rectangle where the Tender of Gravity DANCES, at
the height of the horizon, a naked female arm brandishes a gaslamp.
Lit up.
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