Room number 1
I lived in passion, seduction, weakness and aggression.
I sink through the white folds of the sheet, to rinse my mind. And then I remember how the solitude of my judgment is what allows me to think all that I want think.
Room number 2
The hospital is the host.
The walls are dancing.
To the left and to the right there are beds with different torments which share the same air, the same moment, under different experiences of the Thought: inner strength and solitude.
Room number 3
In the bathroom: COVER-UP, CONSPIRACY, SELF-CONTAMINATION OF ONE’S THOUGHTS
MEREU: 8 Rue Seveste, 75018 Paris
The walls and the naked bed know what it means to want and to reject, to forget and to understand…. For me, a full day is a day that allows me to know several states, to ask myself more. Always a new town will be a place for a new question and so, the hotel, is the motherhood of all your doubts. The end of that day will bring all your thoughts into one singular point, all the moments in one singular place, and that will be your room of the evening, not at all curious to get to know you – which will give you the privacy to reveal yourself. Intimacy in which you can rest, and then to want to express yourself. Art stains …
I analyze my gestures, chromatics, signs – nothing to do with thinking. They are all spontaneously, freely and instinctively established. And thus, my canvases become a diary sincerer than I could have ever written it. From day to day, from one hour to another, from one image to another, you understand agitation, or hear silence … simplicity and synthesis are established, or a tumult of arguments, dreams and confrontations welter through color. Thus, each frame gains individuality, obtains a body with a passion of its own. Each stage speaks of a mystery – because I have changed myself for each of them, to be able to reinvent and to find within me, each time, new formulas of exteriorization of nature.
I describe one spacious, yet short night, from which, until dawn, the only traces of intrusion that remain are: random bed sheets on metal frames. Each sheet with its sincere story, but the story remains as testimony and is only worth as a memory. Otherwise, it is just an ordinary piece of cloth, of a miserable quality, which has only a few stains forgotten in a hurry. I find these spots sufficient to give life to the white bedding – alive through the force which runs through it: the guest – an illusion.
And speaking of illusions, my whole project is an illusion, a lie, to the extent that I call it a game: a continuous back and forth which doesn’t let you go. My canvases develop a peace that knows no quietness and a balance that shakes, precisely because the states they want to describe are so unstable. The man is the character in who’s depths, the echo of consciousness vibrates, in the same time with the power of intuition. As a result, only on holidays can he only pretend to have lost reason. And then, the host of the evening, lets him taken away beyond the boundaries that fate allowed for him. “
Always, for an artist as well as for a hotel employee, there will be a kitchen. For the artist, the kitchen will be the workshop, and “what he lets be seen ” – the exhibition: how he believes that the result of his recent concerns is best represented. I chose to expose both conditions with which the artist confronts, on two stories. The first level always directed and orderly. The basement, the place which is warmer and more familiar on a daily basis, but where he does not want to be seen when others visit him. I chose to expose both the comfortable and the uncomfortable.
Ioana Alexandra Niculescu-Aron was born in Bucharest, Romania. She obtained a BA Painting degree at the National University of Arts in Bucharest. Before turning 21, She was awarded with a scholarship at Accademia di Belle Arti di Brera Milano and exposed works in over 15 places in Romania, Germany, the United States and Italy. Currently she is studying at HEAR Strasbourg-Mulhouse (Haute école des arts du Rhin), France.