A copy of “Jacques Nunuche” coupled with Guo Peï, for a confrontation between the strength of desire and technical fragility, backed by physical horror, but it is true that the horror is human. We imagine the splashing of a sewer serving as an overflow, which is scattered in a shower of droplets and which clings like a tic-tac-toe to Minerva’s pubis.

Entering the dark room of “La Compagnie 1837”, a 450 m² event space located in the heart of Paris, on the first floor of the Saint-Lazare station, sealed with dark curtains, one does not wonder where the grandson of the writer wants to take us; it’s in the depths of his sewing dreams for an undeserved “Headache”. So here is the brass, fuchsia, pale indigo of Soulage, but also sphincter snorts that crackle in the horribly black shadow. Perpetual effort of Icarus whose wings always go haywire, and who falls back… sitting.

The witch with the apple is out, and in the world of sewing, you have a lot of witches… Here are the names… (no, I’m just kidding, let’s be discreet). Virginal white, cheerful fuschia or even blacker than the asshole of the world, between the three his heart swings, but the war “of the Three” will not take place with this cursed little painter.

He plays “Edward Scissorhands” for us, without Tim’s talent, to spoil the seams for us. It is true that the place really lent itself to a station novel.