Louise Bourgeois

I just heard that Louise Bourgeois died today, she was 98 years old. That's a long and beautiful life.

I never met Louise Bourgeois, and yet she had a profound effect on my own life. Ten years ago I visited my parents in London; Miss Cb was eight, Master Cb was five, and my parents were eager for me to go off and enjoy myself so that they could spoil the grandchildren. I obliged, with pleasure. One of the places I visited was the Tate Modern, and I was lucky to enough to experience Bourgeois' incredible sculpture entitled "I Do, I Undo, I Redo," a more apt title for my emotional landscape at that time I could not have found. I stood on line and waited patiently at each of the three towers, I walked up the stairs, I sat on the chairs and stared at the giant mirrors, I walked down the stairs and stopped at each tiny sculpture on the way. Louise Bourgeois had somehow managed to physically sculpt my feelings, and I shall be eternally grateful to her for that.

A sample of the many possible interpretations of Sophie Calle's break-up letter:

Mother

I'm afraid he really is, and always will be, a literary man and not a simple man. I can understand your sadness and, in spite of it all, I am not surprised by this letter which reeks of self-obsession. Well, in his defense, he does things properly: "disquiet" (not bad), "masquerade" (tragic), "irreparable" (solemn)...

He certainly has literary talent, and what a blessing that is!

Headhunter

Applicant with a convoluted form of speech.

Latinist

To translate "tell you what I have to say out loud" I write: "say, I present you to present," as a pastiche of the famous formula used by Suetonius (Life of Titus, VII) when Titus leaves Berenice: Berenicen dimisit inuitus inuitam (he dismissed her against his will, against her will).

Teenager

(in text message)

He thinks he's cool!

Diplomat

The first thing that struck me about X's letter is that he opted to express his unilateral decision in writing, as if he was worried that a discussion or confrontation with the protagonist might undermine his determination to put an end to a relationship that seems to be important to him, but that he can no longer cope with.

French Intelligence Officer

Encoded the letter using the Vigenere encryption system, keyword chosen for the encryption was "Rupture."

Talmudic exegesis:

At the end of the debate we say:
"Teku." It cannot be decided. Cowardice or sublimity?


[The Talmud uses the word "teku" to indicate that the rabbis could not reach a decision on the matter under discussion. Derivation uncertain, possibly from "tekum" meaning "it will stand/remain a question." May also be an acronym of the Aramaic phrase "Tishbi yetaretz kushiot v-abayot" - "The Tishbite [Elijah] will answer all unresolved questions" [when the messianic age is proclaimed].


Some responses to "Take care of yourself" (which ends the break-up letter)-


Consultant for savoir-vivre and protocole:

At last, he is thinking about someone other than himself.


Graduate of the Ecole Normale Superieure:
"Since you have not taken care of me"? "Since I am incapable of doing so?" "Do what you can with all this"? The lexical field remains admirably consistent: care is the only avenue in this viral climate, in which love is like an incurable sickness.

Linguist, semiologist, medievalist:
Has it occurred to you how a woman might feel when you tell her that?

Psychoanalyst:
And the final murderous sentence: "Take care of yourself." Here we grasp the brutality of the vacuity of this action...The nerve! Of course, because I will no longer be taking care of you.

Two cappuccinos and a cup of tea

Last week I went to the Mitchell Library to see an exhibition of photographs showing Australian artists in their studios. The photos were amazing, but I especially loved the DVD they had running on a loop. I sat on a bench and watched one artist after the other talk about his/her inspiration, workspace, routine, personal hopes and dreams. Later, while I was ordering our cappuccinos in the little library cafe, my mother sneaked into the shop and bought me the book, and I have been poring over it all weekend. I'm even tempted to get out a magnifying glass to see the tiniest detail of each artist's studio.

Sometimes it seems that I enjoy the process of artmaking more than the artwork itself. Colours the Clown (you know her by now I think, you know, we go way back) is an artist, and I love hanging out at her house, annoying her by gushing over sketches she was preparing to trash, or sniffing madly at the oil paints and murmuring "ah...aromatherapy!" Sometimes I really wish that letters and words and sentences had a smell. Oh well...at least books have a special smell, I suppose that's something.

You can see some of the photographs here, and this is a sample of the book, if you're curious to see what I'm talking about.

Marina Strocchi (one of the artists featured in the exhibition) is quoted as saying that she's not sure that you can ever make a mistake when you're making art.

"What's a mistake? she asks. "It's a mistake if you dip your paint brush in your cup of tea instead of your water tin."

I thought that you, dear reader, might like that quote as much as I do.