Clémence Didion: The Wunderwall Brussels

Clémence Didion (°1989, Namur, Belgium)

In a world, neither closed nor achieved, wherein everything seems to be frozen, just there on purpose to be admired, ghosts and chimeras are intertwining; cagey minds and spectres are still haunting some thoughts, some pasts. In that realm, paused or slow motioned, beings with no identity are gazing, genderless and with no form of uniqueness. They’re passing by, sluggishly, from one side to the other side of the frame. They’re interchangeable elements. They depict dangling memories. A zany world hinging on roughly painted structures and organic skeletons that are balancing the different arrangements. Despite quietness and order that are ruling there, this environment, similar to its creator, is far from being Edenic and idyllic. It’s entropy which coming from the fertile ideas of Clémence that is nourishing her compositions. Motionless cycles, time for our eyes to catch the oversize eyes drawn in coloured hazes. Cartoons alike, they dialogue with interlocking wires and pipes, they kiss rigid tongues and they’re staring at nameless objects. Absurdity seems then to reach its pinnacle. 
In a waking trip that looks like a tale of a contemporary Eugene Ionesco, Clémence is inviting us to leave the childhood and getting closer from a heavier realty; made of trials and mistakes, so as to draw near the vulnerability of a steady existence: as a reverberation, a resonance of our troubles and of our misunderstandings.