I started making charred books in 1980. Why did I burn some books? I have often had to answer this question and the harsh criticism of these series of my work. For me, this is an idea like any other. My mother once told me the story of my father's first and only book. It burned in the fire just before it was distributed in bookstores. As a child, I witnessed this moment, but the memory of it has not remained in me. My mother raised the curtain on what had happened, and I knew that this event was sleeping somewhere in my brain.
My charred books owe their existence to the flame. They are created and modulated by him, by his caress. This is a synthesis of my childhood memories, the pages are darkened, but the words are there. My memory too.
These books have become a symbol of memory.
I dedicate them to my father.
40x40x10 cm, charred paper, fasteners