Julien Creuzet

Il pleut encore, des minis gouttelettes, elles marquent le temps et le vertige des arbres.

Flaques d’eau.

Saumâtre, la mer était morte, la terre plus froide.
Trouble-fête, corps hâlé, flottait sans raison.

Tirailleur éreinté dit: salive, sueur, sperme, larme,
j’ai tué des reflets, massacré des ombres, les pieds dans la vase
je n’avais qu’une seule envie. Prendre le large.

Pas certain que ce soit le titre final.
Nous verrons bien le jour où il faudra se dévoiler,
parce que le temps se sera écoulé.

(…), 2019, Écrire une histoire jour après jour, artiste en résidence sans sexe sans genre, fantasmer une exposition, faire tout sur place avec: filets de chantier, filet à olives, toiles de paillage anti-racines et mauvaises herbes, cordes (noires et bleues) polypropylènes haute résistance, cent kilos de plastiques, quelques films étirables manuellement, des vêtements de deuxième main (nappes (fleuries), draps (fleuris), plutôt de couleurs vives, surtout bleus, t-shirts, pantalons, chemises), tissus (unis, transparents, chelou, brillants), rideaux synthétiques (lycra), des livres sur les paysages, les lacs, les océans, les animaux, les insectes, les plantes (surtout des images), des verres à eau d’occasion non teintés (mais d’autres iraient aussi), vases transparents de tailles différentes (pas trop de bouteilles de vin), tiges de métal rondes en acier, du bois aggloméré stratifié de couleur (des grandes plaques, au moins des grands formats), mâts de planche à voile, objets de chantier naval neuchâtelois qui traînent, haut-parleurs, pièce audio (en fr), voix, peut-être de la VR, musique, soudure, couture, gravure, impressions, beaucoup d’eau (…)


Opening Friday September 13 2019, at 18h30

Exhibition from September 14 to October 20 2019

Partener: Fisheye 360


Hello, (...) we’re moving forward.

SMS (for «Short Message Service»)

April 12, 2019
Georges Dessouslavy’s murals at the Neuchâtel train station may hold the encrypted preface to Julien Creuzet’s (1986, F) exhibition at the CAN. The two panels in the central hall evoke typical lake activities such as fishing or swimming. In this series of works by the painter from Neuchâtel, water is omnipresent.1

May 01, 2019
Skype exchanges, a burst of dreams and trade secrets.
A hand that writes and gathers the thoughts of the other; a notebook on the other side of which here is almost the story:

Everything else about water is forgotten.

May 17, 2019
Could we split the space in two? Fisherman’s universe. Desert, hot. Maracuja.

- Discuss in situ work (Rice has disappeared.)

July 15, 2019
Summer is already here. Oars and old rudders cross the border and arrive in groups; new objects, other dusty ones pile up in the corners. A bird enters through the large glass door, it is trapped. Traces of old exhibitions are still visible and do not seem to prevent the writing of a new chapter (...) images fog up, some smells disperse and do not remain, they do not fill the rooms. Crystallmess2’s music will take care of it.

July 16, 2019
One, even meetings or non-matches on Tinder. It is true, basically, it is a question of human proximity, of a relationship to oneself, to us, it is a question of relationships. Sometimes the artist’s work, whether romantic or not, seems to be punctuated by long hours of heavy and professional solitude. Staying there, sweating deep observations, undermined, sometimes by the game of business and its indigestion. Being stuck, looking for the biggest puddle of water to jump into, or venturing over it and finding yourself far away.

July 18, 2019
From the quays of the port of Neuchâtel resound with an air of music and duck sounds; it seems that the indigo, sky blue and ocean blue skies surround the constellations of individuals hanging around. The atmosphere is relaxing.

(...)
Seahaven is the name of the fictional city where the story of a film takes place3. In fact, it is a false paradise surrounded by a body of water as tiny as an alpine lake. The protagonist tries to escape from the island from which he cannot escape. Each of its flight companies is doomed to unexpected failure. As an aquaphobic child, in front of a sea as far as the eye can see, he is promised no other way out than to go around it again and again.

August 20, 2018
A multitude of varied and colourful materials intertwine fiercely to form sculptures and create a delicate environment. The figures hanging from the ceiling evoke a fishing gear that would have withstood the elements and the assaults of the sea. A narrative framework appears and draws the outlines of a recognizable story. Recalling among other things the stories of explorers, with an obviously disastrous outcome, memories are awakened in a harmonious poetry while ending up lost in an uncertain trance. Accompanied by rhythmic and aerial music, words collide to make images of the past vibrate. A hypnotic and dark atmosphere slowly submerges the place like a rising tide.

August 21, 2019 Maybe RV, maybe, maybe not, maybe (...)4 but with the Geneva Skeen sound5. The water walking ball can also be called a water walker, a water running ball, a water walking ball, a water walking ball, a water walking ball, a water fitness ball, a water polo ball, a transparent sports ball, a water ball and others.6

September 9, 2019
Stuck in the pit, between the walls of the abyss, lost in the mezzanine. Accept what happens, a little less poetry and the increasingly altered view, total immersion.

September 12, 2019
There is always an exhibition, in another place, with or without plastic.

September 13, 2019
It is still raining, tiny droplets, (...)

Sharing the sun



1 Ecclesia, Alexandra, Between Tourism Propaganda and Patriotic Sentiment, Volume 66 (2015), GSK.
2 Crystallmess, musician invited by Julien Creuzet to create the sound piece for the exhibition.
3 Weir, Peter, Peter, The Truman Show, 1998.
4 VR part produced in collaboration with Fisheye.
5 Geneva Skeen, musician invited by Julien Creuzet to create the sound piece surrounding the VR.
6 Descriptive text of a product from a resale website.

+ texte

photos: Sebastian Verdon / CAN