Artist

Camille Kachani

Tomorrow was another day
They could be ordinary objects, utilitarian or decorative, but they have a je ne sais quoi that places them on vacant ground, in an area that, being nothing else, has everything to be invaded by art. Camille Kachani's objects are invaders of peripheral areas.
They could be stuffed animals, but they are the size of a sofa, referring to Claes Oldenburg's sculptures. They could be small robots in the shape of animals, but they bring in the title "natura ex machina" a link to the Greek theatre, of the "deus ex machina" who appeared on stage out of nowhere, lowered by a crane, to give sense and conclusion to a plot badly stitched. They could be brooms, cages and other domestic objects made of wood, but green leaves sprout from them, pointing to a desire to give things another life. I imagine all the wood in the house sprouting, the shelves and drawers, the door jambs, the handles of knives, vigorously resurrecting and generating shoots, on the one hand something graceful, on the other something as terrible as a mooing steak. To be enraptured or to scream in terror? To laugh at the adulterated dollar bills or cry at the impossibility of the end of money? Therein lies the crucial difference between a stuffed animal and a work of art: uncertainty, a vague terrain where Kachani's production feels in a comfort zone to cause discomfort in all other zones.
A few years ago, these disturbances were absurd road signs scattered around the city, such as "Armed robbery at 150 m" or "Stop Feel React". Later, signs of urbanity, such as rubbish dumpsters, cones, buses and garage doors appeared two-dimensional and soft, as if they were carpets for houses condemned to the impossibility of domestic peace, perpetually invaded by the noises of the street. In the most recent production, the disturbances are caused by the green shoots of insurrected wood, which makes cages impossible. Broomsticks and witchcraft always fly together and that must be why the series "Tomorrow was another day", begun in 2012 both enthralls and horrifies. It is not possible to enslave what is alive without a reaction being slowly, imperceptibly, gestated. And incidentally, these hybrid objects that escaped from the margins of design are there to remind us that art is alive, it is naturant nature, a force that engenders. Therefore, be very careful: it may sprout in spite of the constrictions, and for that it will trigger enchantment and terror, as in every birth.
Paula Braga, 2013