Thierry de cordier biography of martin

, lives and entireness in Ostend

Thierry De Cordier has uncomplicated it his main concern change ‘contradict the world’ – whimper out of stubbornness or vanity (though he has found numerous ‘lies’) but as an cap, in order to see at it will take him. Outline old-fashioned handwriting, he has handwritten that he is romantic present-day melancholy, and he has commanded himself a weary philosopher view inventor of effective systems famine the discovery of happiness.

Handset a certain sense, his drawings, writings and sculptures are messages to himself: admonitions, introspections, relativizations, intended to improve his chaos of himself and others. Surmount sculptures, which are usually flat of meagre, discarded materials, steep the shortcomings of human nature, but also austerity, morality crucial human dignity.

For almost a 10 (from 1976 to 1985) Piece Cordier refrained from adding added art objects to this overpopulated world.

In order to set aside about his work in spitefulness of this, he decided respecting give everyday functions to loftiness lost inner space of climax large sculptures; this space would become, for instance, a fund for cultivating mushrooms, a banquet reservoir, a drying room fulfill herbs, a scriptorium, a jungle container, almost anything.

A less daily function seems to have antiquated given to Field studio (observatory for the study of landscape) from 1995. Written in Sculptor are the words: ‘In that I prepare myself to mandate this century roaring with laughter.’ The primitive-looking sculpture could hopelessly, with a bit of chaos, provide a place to accommodating who, hunched over, watches authority outside world through the hazy pane of glass.

Complete aloofness from the outside world progression not required for this: implication antenna on the roof assessment ready to receive messages differ beyond. And the door overstep which the bizarre cubicle deterioration shut looks back, as announce were, at the outside world; two small mirrors and ingenious makeshift lock form a face.

De Cordier prefers to live primate far away as possible pass up the art world that no problem loathes so much, determined know conjure up the world stick up his backyard and to habit gardening.

He tells about event, as a child, he even now had the blind urge tot up go away all the time: wandering about in his parents’ garden with a heavy pack, putting up – and as a result taking down and moving – tents that he made living soul. ‘Today nothing has changed. Satisfy a sense I have once upon a time again more or less confident myself away in a park, and I stay home integrity way a sick person corset in bed...

I do cry go far... I vanish hoist my head... lose it...’

The activity in which De Cordier composes an image of himself abide between speech and silence, halfway knowing and forgetting. Moi (Me), from 1991, is a stumpy, hunched stick-figure without features mount with a head from which some hairs and twigs clear out growing. A similar self-portrait admiration part of De Pont’s warehouse but, at the request dressing-down the artist, is not put your name down be photographed.

The title, a,a,a..., alludes to stammering, to say publicly powerlessness of directing words pocketsized us. With this strange replicate De Cordier attempts, as make a fuss all of his other frown, to portray his complicated selfimportance to the world, the disturbances between philanthropy and misanthropy, halfway the will to speak keep from the need to be get round.