The Mourner, Performance view; preparation drawing; details 1-4
(Graphite powder, plastic glue, fabric, wood, books, brush, scissors)
Space, but you cannot even conceive the horrible inside-outside that real space is.
Certain (shades) especially, grinding their loins one last time,
Make a desperate effort to “exist as a single unity.” But they rue the day. I met one of them.
Destroyed by punishment, it was reduced to a noise, a thunderous noise.
An immense world still heard it, but it no longer existed, having become simply and solely a
noise, which was to rumble on for centuries longer, but was fated to die out completely, as
though it had never existed.”
From: Henri Michaux, L’espace aux ombres in Gaston Bachelard,
The Poetics of Space, 1994, pp. 216-217