Author: me

Fake True

Post author By me
Post date 2024
Sticky post

IA generated faces x Removed senses

Iron sculpture| 90 x 50 x 10 cm

Suspendus dans le silence, ces masques en fil de fer évoquent des visages humains déformés — réceptacles vides, sans oreilles, sans bouche, sans yeux, originalement généré par une IA. Ils flottent tels des fantômes numériques, hantant l’espace par une absence troublante d’identité et de perception. Chaque forme rappelle le bruit génératif de l’intelligence artificielle tentant de simuler l’humain sans jamais en saisir l’essence.

Ces « visages » ne sont ni vrais ni faux, mais des composites dérangeants, nés d’ensembles d’entraînement et d’abstraction. Leurs sens manquants témoignent d’un monde où la donnée remplace l’expérience, où l’expression devient un écho sans origine. Ou le digital remplace l’humain.

Le spectateur se retrouve face à un miroir… qui ne reflète plus rien.

—

Suspended in silence, these wireframe masks evoke distorted human faces—empty vessels devoid of ears, mouths, or eyes. They float like digital phantoms, haunting the space with an eerie absence of identity and perception. Each form recalls the generative noise of artificial intelligence attempting to simulate the human without ever grasping its essence. These “faces” are neither real nor false, but unsettling composites born from training sets and abstraction. Their missing senses speak to a world where data replaces experience, and expression becomes an echo without origin. The viewer confronts a mirror that does not reflect.

Green Sculpture

City of Lights

Post author By me
Post date 2024
Sticky post

Plastic Rubish x SkyLine x Shadows

Plastic sculpture 50 x 100 x 20 cm

Cette ligne d’horizon n’est pas faite d’acier ni d’ambition, mais de plateaux plastiques de médicaments jetés, soigneusement agencés et éclairés pour imiter la grandeur d’une ville moderne.

Chaque fragment translucide projette une ombre haute — verticale, stérile, répétitive — formant des tours fantomatiques qui rappellent les silhouettes des quartiers financiers ou des pôles technologiques, ou des tours de serveurs, mais ne sont en réalité que des coquilles vides issues de la surconsommation. La prétendue transparence y est de mise.

Ce sont des villes nées du déchet, non de la croissance. L’infrastructure même de nos vies — de la santé à l’espoir — se dessine à travers ce que nous jetons, ce que nous oublions, ce que nous surmédicalisons.
Derrière chaque skyline lumineux se profile une silhouette plus sombre, celle de notre dépendance au bien-être, à la technologie, à la vitesse — le tout enveloppé dans l’illusion du progrès.

Et si nos villes n’étaient que des distorsions de lumière, construites sur le vide, projetées par nos propres mains ?

—

This skyline isn’t built of steel or ambition, but of discarded plastic drug trays, carefully arranged and lit to mimic the grandeur of a modern city.

Each translucent fragment throws a tall shadow — vertical, sterile, and repetitive — forming ghostly towers that recall the silhouettes of financial districts and tech hubs, but are, in fact, empty shells of overconsumption.

These are cities born from waste, not growth. The very infrastructure of our lives — from health to hope — is shaped by what we throw away, what we forget, and what we over-medicate.
Behind every glowing skyline is a darker silhouette, cast by our addiction to well-being, tech, and speed, wrapped in the illusion of progress.
What if our cities were just light distortions, built on emptiness, projected from our own hands?

Sculpture Tech for good

Cookies

Post author By me
Post date 2024

Bee alveolus x Gold x Cookies

Here, the word “cookies” appears as an intrusion on a structure that evokes something alive: a bee’s honeycomb, a hive, or an organic tissue. The word seems almost burned into the surface—charred, invasive, foreign to the natural texture of the material. The effect is unsettling: technology imposing itself on the living, draining and colonizing it. Behind the seemingly innocent term lies the greed of the digital world: to harvest, to record, to predict. The cardboard-like, fibrous support suggests packaging, waste, a leftover from a commercial exchange—or perhaps the husk of an organism emptied of its essence. The hive is no longer a metaphor for community, but the devastated territory of soft surveillance.

Sculpture Tech for good

The duck

Post author By me
Post date 2024

Gold x Unicorn x Wood x Metal

Suspended between fragility and absurdity, this wire sculpture oscillates between the outline of a duck and the silhouette of a unicorn—a hybrid, indecisive figure. The duck, banal and earthly, meets the unicorn, fetishized symbol of success in the startup world. Here, the so-called “unicorn” is a tangled, chaotic structure: delicate yet deceptive, grounded in a wooden base that mimics the rustic or natural, but ultimately remains disconnected from reality. The golden wire mimics value, prestige, but the form collapses into confusion. It’s the parody of innovation, the grotesque of hype: the myth of limitless success anchored in a precarious balance.

Automation Bodies

The clock

Post author By me
Post date 2024

clock x life cycle x mobile phone

A minimalist circle, dissected and cadenced like a clock, where each hour is no longer a number but a movement of the body. The figure, barely outlined, fragments into angular postures that repeat a modern ritual: waking, commuting, working, scrolling. The smartphone, omnipresent, becomes the silent axis around which the day turns. The drawing does not show the passage of time—it embodies its mechanical absurdity. The precision of the lines contrasts with the alienation they depict: an existence reduced to routine, tracked and controlled by invisible metrics. The gesture is both universal and intimate—a choreography of constraint.

Automation Bodies

As usual

Post author By me
Post date 2024

A stripped-down visual loop. The life cycle of a modern connected human — sketched in its most essential mechanics. Four minimal postures, rigid and cold, that could belong to anyone: standing, sitting, commuting, lying. The presence of a device — phone or laptop — never fades, clinging like an extension of the hand or spine.

Here, the machine does not dominate by force but by repetition. The movements are automated, the transitions seamless. There is no beginning, no climax, no relief.

The final posture is the most disturbing: the body reclines horizontally, still tethered to the screen. Is it sleep? Or something terminal? The ambiguity hangs in the silence. It is the moment when function, fatigue and disappearance become indistinguishable.

Green Video

Summer is coming

Post author By me
Post date 2024

Squirrel noises x Pollen x Burning Sun x x-Rays x Solar activity

Burning pollen, solar debris, invisible particles and solar radiation captured in a hallucinatory blur.
The sound is erratic and jerky—reminiscent of squirrels on amphetamines, stuttering cartoon rodents from a lost VHS.
This video seems to stage a micro-apocalypse: a sensory collapse where soft natural elements (floating pollen) are transformed into digitalised x-rays under the violence of a primordial sun.
Between sunstroke and signal noise, the work evokes the overstimulation of contemporary digital environments, where everything vibrates, heats, accelerates.
No place for silence, no shadows—only an ultraviolet barrage, comical and devastating.
It’s not light anymore. It’s pressure. For the future. This also refers to the destruction of sun natural protection that men destroy progressively with environmental passive destruction

Bodies Green

Sun is beyond the cloud

Post author By me
Post date 2024

Clouds x Random walking x No water x No sun

Green

Flooded

Post author By me
Post date 2024

Flood x Trees x Funfair

Green

Spiderman

Post author By me
Post date 2024

Broken screens x neural network

A web of fractures mimicking a nervous system, or maybe the inverse — nerves mimicking the breaks in our machines. This figure is composed from three actual broken smartphone screens, reassembled into the silhouette of a human head and torso, spidering from a dense wound in the chest.

The cracks become neurons. The neurons become vulnerability. The device, once a window to the world, now becomes a shattered mirror. The reference to Spiderman is neither heroic nor nostalgic — it’s anatomical, visceral. The power isn’t superhuman; it’s damage, perfectly mapped.

There is no repair here, only exposure.

Automation Bodies Tech for good

Gluetton

Post author By me
Post date 2024

Scrolling addicted hands x binary sentence x Monster face

Two hands, symmetrically mirrored, rise and fall in an endless scroll—at once mechanical, monstrous, and intimate. This looping gesture, captured from the artist’s own body, is overlaid with a curtain of binary code: an unreadable confession, a punishment encrypted. Beneath the digits, a form emerges—a face, or perhaps a beast born from habit and repetition.

In Gluetton, the fingers become organs of addiction, wired for frictionless compulsion. Recent medical studies are evoked: scrolling injuries, early-onset joint degeneration, a digital-age arthritis born not from labor, but from endless consumption.

This is the portrait of a new user-species—part mammal, part machine, part captive. The name Gluetton fuses gluttony and glue: a creature stuck in its own hunger. It feeds on feeds. And it cannot stop

Automation Engraving Installation Tech for good

Puppets

Post author By me
Post date 2024

Antics x social network codes

Automation Tech for good

Hutches

Post author By me
Post date 2024

Servers x NYC x liberty x Z. x Sorrow x Tears

Digital drawing on paper 20 x 30cm

La skyline de Manhattan — tranchante, dense, iconique — se révèle être tout autre chose : une forteresse de serveurs de données, verticalement froide, uniformément chiffrée. Sous chaque tour, des larmes numériques tombent, calquées sur l’onde sonore d’un enregistrement réel : la voix de Z affirmant, comme un mantra, que tout ce qu’il fait est « pour le bien du monde ».

Au centre, à peine visible mais reconnaissable entre toutes, la Statue de la Liberté est teintée de rose vif — non plus symbole d’émancipation, mais leurre au cœur du contrôle. L’œuvre détourne la grandeur architecturale de New York en un diagramme carcéral, où chaque gratte-ciel devient cellule, cage de données, entrepôt monétisé de fragments de vie.

Hutches n’est pas une vue urbaine, c’est une machine à confessions, une cartographie de l’effondrement de la liberté en idéologie.
Les larmes ne tombent pas seulement des bâtiments.
Elles tombent de la croyance elle-même.

—

NYC x Z. auto persuasion audio recording x Data servers x Statue of liberty

The skyline of Manhattan—sharp, dense, iconic—reveals itself as something else: a fortress of data servers, coldly vertical, uniformly encrypted. Beneath each tower, digital tears fall, echoing the waveform of a real audio clip: Z’s recorded justification that everything he does is “for the good of the world.”

At the center, barely visible yet unmistakable, stands the Statue of Liberty, colored in bright pink—no longer a symbol of freedom, but a decoy amid control. The piece transforms New York’s architectural grandeur into a carceral diagram, where each skyscraper becomes a hutche, a cage of data, a monetized storage of lives.

Hutches is not just a cityscape—it is a confession machine, mapping the collapse of liberty into ideology. The tears don’t just fall from the buildings.
They fall from belief itself.

Automation Bodies Green

Uberlazied

Post author By me
Post date 2024

Old greek x Couch x Laziness economy
A neoclassical body, idealised and smooth, reclines on a synthetic throne: the couch.
The virility of ancient Greece meets the comfort of the gig economy. This is not a hero resting—it’s a monument to passivity, shaped by hyper-efficiency and over-servicing.
Everything is white. Everything is silent. The statue doesn’t speak, doesn’t move, doesn’t need to.
The ‘Uberlazied’ man is no longer a thinker or a warrior, just a user—optimised, idle, aesthetically sterile.
The tension lies in this contradiction: divine muscles, sculpted for action, petrified by convenience.

This is the perfect client of the laziness economy.
The one who scrolls instead of searching, who orders instead of moving, who clicks instead of acting.
The digital giants have no interest in awakening him. His inertia is their business model.
As long as he stays seated, he produces: data, engagement, money.
A body immobilised, a mind subdued—yet hyperprofitable.

Bodies Sciences Tech for good

3 brides

Post author By me
Post date 2024

Automation Bodies Tech for good

Data Beats Emotion

Post author By me
Post date 2024

Audio recording Z. at American Congress x Start-up Mantra
This work unfolds in two registers. First, as a visual transcription: the tear-shaped forms are not human sorrow, but the soundwave of Z. public apology before the U.S. Congress. No visible emotion. No rupture. Just the smooth, calculated rhythm of a voice designed not to tremble.

Second, as a title—Data Beats Emotion—the phrase echoes a dominant mantra in the startup world. In tech culture, feelings are noise. Growth requires data: measurable, scalable, testable. Emotion is seen as inefficiency—something to simulate perhaps, but never to follow.

By overlapping these layers, the piece reveals a tension: between affect and performance, between sincerity and computation. The tear is not real—it is rendered.
And the apology, like the system it represents, is more a metric than a moment.

Green Tech for good

Underwater

Post author By me
Post date 2024

Underwater private network cables

At first glance, the drawing appears to be a crude sketch of a human brain—nervous, pulsing, alive. But a closer look reveals a different truth: these are the real-world underwater cables that transmit global internet data, linking continents through the ocean floor.

Names like Echo, Jupiter, Grace Hopper, and Curie trace not neurons, but corporate arteries—private infrastructure owned by tech giants, invisible yet vital. Their layout unintentionally mimics a cerebral cortex, forming a new digital nervous system, artificial yet organic in form.

Underwater Private Network Cables questions the anatomy of connection in the 21st century. Are we still the ones thinking—or have these cables begun to think for us? It’s no longer metaphor. It’s structure.
The internet is not in the cloud.
It’s underwater, wired, mapped—and increasingly privatized.
A brain not of flesh, but of fiber.

Automation Bodies Featured Sciences Sculpture

Addictions

Post author By me
Post date 2024
Sticky post

Mobile x Addiction molecules

Iron – Wood – Pine balls | 70 x 40 x 40 cm

Cette sculpture cinétique flotte avec délicatesse dans l’espace, mais son élégance dissimule une vérité brutale : chaque forme géométrique reproduit la structure moléculaire exacte de substances addictives — alcool, cocaïne, nicotine, opioïdes. Suspendue comme un mobile d’enfant, l’œuvre détourne son innocence en incarnant les mécanismes biochimiques de la dépendance.

L’équilibre est trompeur : un simple mouvement dérègle l’ensemble, rappelant la fragilité du contrôle neurochimique. La lumière projette des ombres emmêlées, prolongeant l’emprise chimique au-delà de l’objet lui-même.

L’œuvre met en scène l’addiction comme un système, une chorégraphie — silencieuse, belle, et profondément destructrice.

Une innocence perdue

—

This kinetic sculpture floats delicately in space, yet its elegance masks a brutal truth: each geometric shape reproduces the exact molecular structure of addictive substances—alcohol, cocaine, nicotine, opioids. Suspended like a child’s mobile, the piece subverts its innocence by embodying the biochemical mechanisms of dependency. The balance is deceptive: a single movement disrupts the whole, echoing the fragile equilibrium of neurochemical control. Light casts tangled shadows, extending the chemical grip beyond the object itself. The work stages addiction as both system and choreography—silent, beautiful, and deeply destructive.

Automation Bodies Installation Tech for good

Handroid

Post author By me
Post date 2024

Glass hand x Printed circuit x Empty smartphone

A transparent hand, filled with printed circuitry, holds an immaculate smartphone—yet the screen is blank. No app. No notification. No signal.

This synthetic body-part, part-prosthesis, part-avatar, is not simply a hand: it’s an interface. Designed for the gesture of grasping the device, its entire architecture serves the object it holds. But what happens when the object is hollowed out?

By exposing the internal wiring and rendering the phone as a void, Handroid questions who holds what—or whom. Is the hand using the phone, or is the phone defining the hand? The piece echoes our current state of symbiosis: where the body becomes optimized for digital consumption, and the tool becomes the master.

The future is already here, and it’s holding on tight.

Automation Green Installation

Shouting tomatoes

Post author By me
Post date 2024

Food Waste x Tomatoe shout sound x Water Waste x WC

The bathroom, a symbol of excess and hygiene, becomes the unlikely greenhouse for a grotesque harvest. Overflowing with lush tomato plants rooted in the bowl of a toilet, this sterile space is transformed into a site of vegetal protest.

Science tells us tomatoes emit ultrasonic cries when stressed by thirst. Here, that finding is turned into a visual scream. Red fruit—ripe, luminous—spills from a place of waste, while water, the most vital resource, leaks and pools in silence.

The installation plays with paradox: food growing from filth, beauty in a site of disposal, plants pleading in frequencies humans cannot hear. The absurdity becomes confrontation.

This is not about growth, but neglect. Not about ecology, but the irony of abundance. A piece where the tomatoes, quite literally, have something to say.