La symphonie des grenouilles

Art is like life,

it should not be taken seriously. 

François-Xavier Lalanne

Last summer, in the gardens of the Villa Empain, Simone Machuel invited the jury members of her Master’s degree exhibition in ceramics at ENSAV La Cambre to a joyful garden party entitled Martini Hills. The atmosphere was sunny and cheerful, as the young artist chose to welcome this charming crowd around a Dry Martini bar set at the heart of an incredible and somewhat surreal ceramic garden. Succulent plants overflowing from their pots displayed psychedelic colors; royal poodles were dressed in pastel tones; and flocks of geese tore at each other in a most epic round. Everything had been meticulously prepared in advance, from the script sent a few days earlier to the beautifully designed invitation card, ensuring a remarkable and much-noticed entry onto the contemporary ceramics scene.

With the same boldness and unbridled fantasy that already feels like her signature, Simone Machuel now presents Act II. The continuation of a series that may only just be beginning, but which, according to her, is in any case the “after-party” of a first garden gathering that has already become legendary for those lucky enough to attend. The time has change, early twilight, and roles are reversed: the guests having all left, it is now the animals’ turn to celebrate, finally freed from their human servitude. From the entrance gate to the bas-reliefs adorning the walls, motifs blend and intertwine, repeated profusely as if to assert the territory of a decorative art that is both exuberant and fully embraced. Frogs have invaded the space, offering themselves in baskets to curious birds, evoking for us certain famous fables with their sharp observations on the trivialities of our society. Only a few mischievous yet adorable kittens are missing to complete the scene and spin a lighthearted tale. 

With this second opus, the artist once again calls upon Blake Edwards, with his colorful and tangy humor; Cocteau as well, whose effects and black-and-white aesthetic aligned so well with the surrealism of the time; and closer to us, Tim Burton, with his troupe of gently offbeat monsters. It is clear that beyond sculpture and ceramics, Simone Machuel possesses as fine a pen as she does a graceful hand, and a uniquely generous and delightful way of illustrating through her works the stories she enjoys staging. A picaresque art undoubtedly rooted in a childhood steeped in cinema, allowing her to effortlessly lead us with her to the other side of the screen or the mirror, depending on how one sees it. There, reality is no longer truly the subject; it is simply something to pass through, in order to fully enjoy all that is offered to us to see. 

Jean-Marc Dimanche