* (restored)

 

‘J’aime chez Charles Matton cette familiarité obsessionnelle qu’il entretient avec les objets, le sentiment de leur évidence, qui est plus qu’un sentiment esthétique, et qui tient de l’exorcisme et de la magie. Faire surgir l’objet, voilà qui est plus important que de le faire signifier.’ — Jean Baudrillard

‘In his influential study of the poetic implications of our interactions with buildings and spaces, The Poetics of Space (1958), the French philosopher Gaston Bachelard observed that it is “reasonable to say we ‘read a house’ or ‘read a room’, since both rooms and houses are psychological diagrams that guide writers and poets in their analysis of intimacy.” Bachelard’s interest is in the powerful correspondence between the spaces we live in and our psyches, the ability of rooms and buildings not only to reflect our personalities and imaginations, but to affect them, and the ability of spaces to harbour our most intimate and deeply personal memories: “Of course, thanks to the house, a great many of our memories are housed, and if the house is a bit elaborate, if it has a cellar and a garret, nooks and corridors, our memories have refuges that are all the more clearly delineated. All our lives we come back to them in our daydreams.”

‘Bachelard’s observations are useful when understanding the work of the French artist, Charles Matton, (1931 - 2008). Matton made work in many media. A talented draughtsman, he was an illustrator for Esquire and designed sets for films. Throughout his career, he worked in photography, painting, sculpture and film, but it is the remarkable series of boites that he created from 1985 until his death, for which he will be remembered. The boites are small enclosures measuring approximately two cubic feet in which he built miniature replicas of real spaces, ranging from exacting models of the studios of artists such as Courbet, Vermeer and Francis Bacon to intimate bedrooms and bathrooms and the vast book-lined spaces of the New York Club’s Library. Presenting 40 of a total 72 boxes that Matton made during his lifetime, the exhibition provides a comprehensive introduction to the work of a little-known, but strikingly original artist.

‘One of the most immediately impressive aspects of Matton’s miniature boxes is their magical or bewitching quality, inviting the viewer into their spaces with a virtuoso technical skill. Through the subtle and precise use of mirrors and lighting effects, Matton is able to create the illusion and the suggestion of spaces much larger or smaller than his two cubic feet enclosures. Inside the box Boulevard Saint Germain (1991), there’s an exacting miniature replica of a Parisian interior, the corner of a room opening onto two half open doors, behind which sit two other rooms and further doors. As you peer into the space, the room creates the illusion of opening outwards in multiple directions into further doors and further rooms. It has a magical, uncanny quality that makes you wipe your eyes in disbelief. You know there’s only this small enclosure, but you lift your head to check anyway, enchanted and bewitched by the realistic but otherworldly quality of what you’re seeing.

‘Corridor Library (2000) creates the illusion of an infinitely long corridor lined with books, their tiny spines fastidiously stacked, conveying a sense of great expansion and scope that transcends the work’s miniature scale. In other works, such as Mirrored Cupboard III (1999), Matton makes use of painted glass to give the appearance of a mirrored cupboard door reflecting objects within the room of the box, but which does not reflect anything outside of the box, helping to maintain the illusion of the box’s self-enclosed space. Curator, Joe La Placa, acknowledges Matton’s technical achievements, but believes that his work is distinguished by its content rather than the meticulousness of its form: “With Matton, many people pay attention to the technical aspects of his work, which are extraordinary. But there are many other artists who work in miniature, and it’s what he depicts that is important: moments in time, moods, qualities of light at particular times of day, a certain kind of metaphysical feeling that the boxes exude; that is what makes his work so captivating.”

‘Many of his boxes have an extremely personal, emotional and intimate quality. Debussy’s Poisson D’Or (2004) depicts a room with faded wallpaper and a slightly worn oriental carpet. In the centre of the room is a grand piano. Using a video projection, the piano stool is inhabited by a young man playing Debussy. The young man is in fact Matton’s son, shimmering and not quite there in the projection, haunting and beautiful. This box has the atmosphere of a particularly vivid memory; a particularly resonant dream. Matton’s box suggests, as Bachelard also argues, that it is our spatial awareness that most vividly suggests memories.

‘Even the boxes without figures seem haunted by intimacy and particular emotional timbres. Matton created a long series of hotel corridors and lobbies. Hotel du Lac (1994) shows a hotel lobby with faded but lavish curtains and a large bookcase. In the middle of the box there’s an open door, through which, with the use of mirrors, Matton creates the effect of a never-ending corridor. The work has a personal basis in Matton’s biography in the sense that Matton grew up in hotels because his father worked as a hotel manager. This was an uncertain time, the occupation, and the family’s hotel was occupied by soldiers during the Second World War. The doorway to infinity, then, suggests an invitation to escape to the world outside the confines of the space. Hotel du Lac has an enchanting, wondrous quality, while also suggesting extreme loneliness and the sensation of being trapped.

‘In contrast, many of the boxes exude a playful spirit, suggesting a network of childhood associations such as dolls’ houses, model-making and the surreal, “nonsense” literature of authors such as Lewis Carroll. As La Placa explains: “Matton was a very, very playful character, and that spirit of child’s play is part of the spine of his work.” In order to emphasise this quality, and encourage visitors to enter into this spirit, the exhibition is being held in a specially constructed labyrinth near King’s Cross. The labyrinth will consist of a room within a room. On the outside, the boxes will be displayed alongside preparatory material in a ring around a central room. The central room will contain a large two-way mirror very like the ones used in Matton’s boxes to create the illusion of deep, never-ending space. The experience of walking into the room within a room, then, will approximate the experience of entering into one of Matton’s boxes. As La Placa explains: “Looking through this mirror will hopefully give you the same effect as looking into the boxes, only on a life-scale.” This effect of being inside one of Matton’s boxes is heightened because the inner room will also display a larger-than-life-size sculpture entitled La Grande Lulu (2000), a playful bronze with round cartoonish lines of a woman running, while a miniature version will also be displayed in one of the boxes.

‘Many of the works have a dramatic quality, as if they are dioramas or stages on which something is about to play out. In some cases, the drama is well known, but the setting perhaps less so. In Paul Bowles’s Bedroom Tangiers (1998), the particular quality of the light and furniture of the room offers a kind of relic of the dramatic, bohemian life lived within its walls. In other cases, such as Untidy Woman’s Bedroom (1991) and Collector’s Bedroom (2002), the occupiers of the rooms are more anonymous, and part of the enjoyment of these works is in supposing the drama of the rooms’ absent characters.

‘Homage to Edward Hopper (2002) portrays a dusty room in an apartment block draped in evening sunlight streaming through half open windows, which borrows and recaptures the sense of empty tension and anticipation that so inhabits Hopper’s paintings. There are cracks and fading marks in the wallpaper. The floorboards are exposed. There is a pile of newspapers in the middle of the floor. It’s a near-empty room, but it’s filled with an atmosphere of foreboding, the viewer can’t fail to be captivated with a sense of drama about to unfold. Propped up against the wall is a canvas painting of the same room; a Hopper painting, just finished, or in progress. Through his masterful manipulation of light and space, Matton almost enables the viewer to feel what compelled Hopper to paint the scene, what atmosphere he felt there that he conveyed in his painting. Hopper is only one of many artists to whom Matton paid homage in his boites. They provide a fascinating document of his influences and concerns. In his miniature versions of the studios of artists such as Alberto Giacometti, Francis Bacon and Vermeer, one can see his recurring interest in scale and in the relation of interior and domestic spaces to the interior spaces of psychology.

‘The preparatory materials that will be shown alongside Matton’s boites consist of drawings, paintings, photographs and sculptures and are remarkable artworks in their own right. They occupy a curious relation to Matton’s miniature boxes because the boxes themselves were originally created as preparatory material for large scale realist paintings. He would create meticulous miniature models of rooms and spaces, which he would then photograph, blow up to a large scale and convert into a realist painting on a canvas. At some point while engaged in this process, Matton decided to reverse the order and make the boites the finished artwork, for which he made drawings and photographs as research material. This reversibility of process means that the artworks have a complicated relationship to the idea of a finished piece and to the idea of concrete reality in general. The photographs, drawings, sculptures, models and boxes are intertwined in a complex relational web, in the tangle of which reality dissolves or disappears.

‘One of the richest and most interesting aspects of Matton’s work is how in-tune it is with much 20th century French philosophy and cultural theory. His circle of friends included Jean Baudrillard and Paul Virilio, both of whom championed his work. Baudrillard’s writings on Simulacra seem particularly relevant. Baudrillard thought that our contemporary experience is so dominated by images, simulations, replicas and references that we have lost our ability to experience what the images are meant to depict: reality. While Matton’s work makes a concerted effort to approximate reality as closely as possible in the boxes, by the act of doing so they also articulate a drama of the hyper-real, where the distinction between reality and replica blurs. For example, Matton’s meticulous recreation of a particular moment in time in the Nice bedroom of Nobel Prize winning author J.M.G Le Clezio (1999) is more real to the viewer than the actual room, which might never again experience quite the same effect of light shining through half-closed jalousie blinds which is captured in Matton’s box. Once we have seen Matton’s box, that virtually becomes the reality of the space depicted and we lose touch with a sense of what the real space might have been.

‘When Alice hit the ground from what seemed like an endless tumble down the rabbit hole, she was first contracted like a telescope, shrinking so that she thinks she might disappear altogether. Shortly afterwards she’s stretched again (like a Giacometti sculpture) so that she thinks she’ll never see her toes. It’s as if her size is refocusing to deal with the strange and uncanny qualities of her surroundings. Enclosures enacts a similar readjustment of focus on the part of the viewer, as if by refocusing our attention on the miniature we’re able to stretch it liberatingly outwards again. At the core of Matton’s work are questions of scale, and part of the triumph of his art is its ability to open up spaces much larger than the everyday spaces we inhabit, in spite of and in fact because of the miniature platform on which he worked.’ — Colin Herd

 

 

____
Further

Charles Matton Website
‘Charles Matton – Selected Works’
Le Cercle des Amis de Charles Matton
‘Charles Matton: Enclosures’
‘Architect of Illusions: Charles Matton’
‘Charles Matton sort de ses boîtes’
Book: Paul Virilio ‘Charles Matton: Enclosures’
‘Magic and Miniatures’
‘A BRIGITTE BARDOT portrait by Charles Matton’
‘Les Boîtes de Charles Matton’
‘Charles Matton’s exhibition, best ever seen’

 

___
Film

Spermula (1976)
‘This is the weird, wonderful and highly stylistic film directed and produced by Charles Matton. It is an incredible piece of film fantasy. It is simply outstanding. I am not one to give pompous reviews on any film I happen to see but this film is a major exception. It includes the beauty of 70’s supermodel Dayle Haddon,who has modeled for Yves Saint Laurent, Lagerfeld, Max Factor, Estee Lauder, L’Oreal Paris and now a human rights activist and ambassador for womens rights. Back to the film. It is explicit. Many of the scenes feature open sex and unrestrained debauchery. Many film buffs have simply thrown ‘Art House Porn’ at this film, yet I think it is a little bit more deserving than that. A wacky and interesting plot of extra terrestrial angels on a mission to better humanity with their unique philosophy. Looking at this films history it seems it was quite controversial, for those in the know anyhow. Underground art scenes etc have had their stake on it and many versions and cut and paste originals have been lost. What I believe is remaining are two versions.

‘An English version that apparently has been dubbed completely out of context and respect for the plot of the original french version though it too has it’s share of meddling, reports are that it was edited and cut beyond belief as there were even more explicit displays, more than you see here so one can only imagine. Rumours are that Eva Ionesco (appears right in the beginning, sitting on the satin chaise and also skipping in silhouette) and her mother were involved in the film which I don’t doubt since if you are familiar with the mother’s (Irina Ionesco) exceptional work in photography and styling, known for her dark, poignant, erotic, unsettling yet beautiful imagery you will no doubt see also in this film which swings from the period Baroque/Rococo to 1930’s ART DECO. The styling(Alberte Barsacq) is absolutely elegant, a word I use sparingly. The soundtrack is stunning, beautifully elegant piano arrangements, Cabaret tunes, some Disco is thrown in and 1930s jazz bands. What sets this film so apart from most films of this underground variety is that the film in general is highly stylised, stylised to the point that I think to myself ‘Only in the 70s’, only in the 70s when permissiveness was much greater, Disco was everywhere and interior design and Fashion were at its peak that such a film could be made and incorporate some of those abstract themes and in general plain weirdness together to create something so exceptional.’ — GABRIEL ANTINOUS

 

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Boxes

‘At first he didn’t make them to show them, but to use as a tool to produce photographs. His first exhibition contained the paintings, photographs of the interiors and finally the boxes. It was to make the public believe that the photograph was an honest representation of the space. It was to create this illusion.’ — Sylvie Matton

 

 

The New York Loft, 26th Street (1986)

Boulevard Saint Germain (3 doors) (1991)

Boulevard St Germain

Sigmund Freud’s Study (Night) (2002)

A Romantic Collector’s Bedroom (2002)

Francis Bacon’s Studio (1987)

Chambre de William Burroughs, Tangier (2004)

Le loft au grand escalier (1989)

Library (Homage to Proust)

Bathroom II (1987)

Petit matin au Café de Flore

The Secret Garden of Marianne and Pierre Naho (1933)

The Green Living Room With Two Armchairs (1987)

Paramount Theater Aucland (1989)

 

____
Extras

Charles Matton, visiblement – Documentaire portrait

Art. Interview pinceau : Charles Matton

Exposition de Charles Matton

 

 

*

p.s. Hey. ** David Ehrenstein, Hi. To say I agree would be gilding the lily. Everyone, David Ehrenstein would like to link y’all up to ‘a Derek Jarman music video for the Pet Shop Boys. “Spring” (Rupert Audley) who can be seen fucking the Caravaggio painting in “The Last of England” is on view very briefly in this video in black leather with white hair. Rupert’s family is part of the British aristocracy. He’s a gay punk.’ Here ’tis. ** Chaim Hender, Hi. The new film that Zac and I writing is about a haunted house attraction and we’ve been thinking and talking about the very issue you brought up! What were the odds? IRCAM is basically this working institute, lab, studio, etc. that has the highest, newest sound tech available. They work/collaborate with everyone from experimental musicians/artists to giant movie makers. And I think one can apply to work at the institute with their stuff. Gisele and I have collaborated with them on, I think, four of our theater works, and the opera will be the fifth. They’re very cool and love a challenge. As Steve said, if I’ve ever met Thomas Pynchon, I didn’t know it. I don’t think I have. ** Steve Erickson, Ah, good old divisive Haneke. I haven’t seen ‘Happy End’ yet. Zac and Gisele really liked it and thought it was one of his better films. So there you go. I heard a little of the Emo Kid record. It’s quite curious. I’m not sure what else to think about it yet. ** _Black_Acrylic, Hi, Ben. I’ve never seen even a single second of ‘Game of Thrones’, but that restaurant looks like wacky fun. ** Sypha, Hi. Oh, gosh, I’m very sorry if I haven’t thanked you for your Xmas cards. I’ve really liked and displayed them. I’m sorry. I don’t know how to explain my rudeness other than because of my terrible emailing habits. Anyway, I totally understand if you want to stop sending a card to me. ** Ketsan, I liked your Thanksgiving piece. It’s very sharp and swoopy and has all sorts of exciting linguistic and other thrills. Thank you, kudos. I’d say the 10th arr is def the best for Paris eating at this point in time. I hardly ever eat out, I don’t know why. I like food pretty well. I like watching people eat. Zac hates watching people eat. There are two things he won’t allow in our films: people eating and people whispering. I’m good. Man, I hope that Bronchitis is crawling out of your pores or butt or wherever it goes to die. ** Okay. It was quiet here yesterday. Today’s post restoration is due to a request off-blog by someone who is writing some big thing about Charles Matton’s work and said that reposting my thing would be a big help to him. But I think it’s probably well worth seeing, or re-seeing as the case may be, apart from that, so … See you tomorrow.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

*

p.s. Hey. ** David Ehrenstein, Hi. Happy b’day to Mr. Scorcese. ** Steve Erickson, Hi. I would think so, about hearing back. But yesterday we found out that the festival curator who was supposed to watch our film in a screening here in Paris this past Monday didn’t for completely unknown reasons, and now there’s a scramble to find out why and make sure he or she sees the film, and it’s getting late in the process, and it’s all no small amount of stressful, ugh. Top ten time already, wow, yeah, I guess so. I have to get on mine. Zac saw and really liked the new Haneke, but apparently it has been divisive. I can’t say that Lil Peep’s work spoke to me personally, but I think it’s quite interesting. He’s coming out of Emo rock/ Screamcore/ whatever that genre is generally named, and, as much as I admire Emos and the aesthetic and style and so on that they have built, much of the music they’re attached to is not my thing, but, objectively, it’s a very developed, unique and legitimate genre of music, I think. And I think what Lil Peep did is really new and clever and also authentic. I totally get why he’s important to people and significant within the area in which he was working. ** Jamie, Hey, J. It goes good. Um, no schedule at all re: the new film yet. We’ll just work on the script until we’re completely happy. Then I think we’ll need to translate it into French and then finesse the translation carefully, and then we’ll show it to our producer, who hopefully will like it and want to produce it, whereupon the fundraising would begin. So we’re early on. Yeah, I mean it’s pretty infuriating that what Jonathan did to you is unethical and even maybe illegal, so, I don’t know, … letting him get away with that seems obnoxious, but then starting a legal battle sounds potentially ugly, and, urgh. I know you’ll make the right move. So happy you liked the post so much! This weekend: This afternoon a film festival here is showing this new documentary ‘Queercore: How To Punk A Revolution’ by Yony Leyser, and I’m interviewed in it, so I’m going to see that. The director wanted me to agree to do an onstage Q&A after, but I haven’t seen the film and that sounds like a stress fest so I said no, and hopefully I can just watch the film. And, yeah, script work. And Gisele gets back tomorrow from the run of ‘Crowd’ and ‘Kindertotenlieder’ shows, and we have a lot to talk about, so I’m sure I’ll meet with her. The weather here is wonderfully gloomy and grey. Sounds like yours is a relative match. I hope your weekend puts your favourite album on the turntable and winds the volume up to 10+. Evergreen love, Dennis. ** _Black_Acrylic, Hi, Ben. I hope you had a very lovely birthday! Yeah, Wolfson’s pretty good, even with all the hype. Ooh, you got to weave through the animals on wheels. King for a day, or, well, for the weekend ahead at minimum. ** Armando, Hi. Uh, probably because the licensing fees are outrageous? I’m not really that big a fan of haunted places. I’m just a gigantic fan of haunted house attractions, especially the ones people make in and around their homes circa Halloween. I haven’t seen ‘Crimson Peak’. I should? Hm, I would have to think about movies I especially like about hauntings. Does ‘Enter the Void’ count? Favourite Fassbinder: ‘In a Year of 13 Moons’. I don’t know why ‘Blair Witch Project’ scared me. Maybe not knowing is why it scared me. I think it would be hard to watch it now that 100s of movies have copied its form. At the time, it was really fresh and one of a kind and quite exciting, to me anyway. I went to Museum of Death once, and I really hated it. I thought it was morally bankrupt and salaciously nihilistic, and it just made me sick and depressed. A Gertrude Stein post … I don’t think I’ve ever done one. Odd. Let me see what I can cook up. I’ve basically given up entirely on writing essays. I never could quite suss that form to my satisfaction. So, yeah, understood. My email: [email protected]. I hope your weekend is a work of art. ** Dóra Grőber, Hi! Thanks for the patience and reassurance. Much needed. As I told Steve above, there seems to be some kind of problem with the festival people not having yet watched our film when they were supposed to have by now, and we have no idea why, and we’re trying to make sure they watch it, so we’re even more nervous than we were. Nervous as I am about the film stuff, I still have a reserve of patience and reassurance to transmit to you about the publishers, and know it’s flooding your way. Your work sounds crazy busy, but … yay about you getting two days off now! What are you going to do with the days? Treat yourself royally, my friend. Make sure to. Yesterday for me was just work, phone calls, stressing, … I did an interview, or, rather, continued a long interview. I might have mentioned a while back that this French magazine L’incroyable that devotes each book-like issue to a single artist is doing the next issue about me, and it includes a long, thorough interview, and I’ve been doing that in increments for months. It’s nice, you know. Have a great, great freestyle weekend! ** Natty, Natty! Holy moly, it’s nice to see you! It’s been agrees and ages! Thanks about the post. Great about your new novel! I’ll will go hunt it down and pre-order it. Fantastic news! I hope life is treating you extremely well, maestro. Really, really nice to hear from you. Take good care. ** Misanthrope, Hey, G. I think the fear of robots taking over is pretty funny. It’s so 1950s or something. Oh, cool, I’m happy what I said made sense. Yeah, it’s weird when people who are happy or think they are become proselytizers for the way they found it. I guess that’s how religion has lasted so many eons. It’s a weird impulse. Generous in a way, I guess, but blinded by the light too. Cool, sounds like we are same-pagers about love. And that’s probably really rare, actually. ** James Nulick, Hi, James! Well, SRL were in the post for a very good reason. I’m good. Yes, we are in the phase of submitting PGL to festivals and hoping and waiting. We just started, so it’s early on, and we’re waiting for our first acceptance. We’re dying to premiere the thing and start its life. Uh, I think, yeah, distributors are often found via festival screenings, but there are probably other ways. You’re edging closer and loser to your novel’s finish line, which is very impressive as well as mouth-watering. No, my novel’s still back burning. I’m starting work on Zac’s and my next film and a couple of big projects with Gisele, and, as evidenced by today’s post, I’m still more interested in making fiction using animated gifs instead of language. I’ll get back to the ‘novel’ novel at some point. Thank you for the excellent wishes and right back at you, sir. ** Okay. I made a new short literary gif work, and the blog is being used to foist it upon the world this weekend, and if you would be so kind as to say something in its regard, that would nice, but that’s totally up to you. See you on Monday.