Writer – Artist – Photographer
For more than thirty years, Sophie Calle h as been inspired by her own life, she is the actress of her own image. Born in 1953 in Paris, Sophie Calle is a writer, a conceptual artist, a photographer, a movie director and even detective. She might be a little of each, according to the characters that she interprets, the rituals she imagines, the parts of her life that she reveals and the feelings that she shares.
The artist often explores investigative methods and her work, most often, consists of the association between photography and text. Absence but also play and ritual are at the heart of her work. She represented France at the Biennale de Venise in 2007.
About the Collection
“What I really like about these plates is creating a sort of ritual to make people’s life complicated. People have to sit in order, there have to be six at table and breaking a plate becomes a no-no. And there is a more private aspect, too. I love to eat off other people’s plates, because I always have the impression that it’s better. So now on, I’ll be able to go check out other people’s plates, maybe not to eat off them but to approach them with a pretext, even if I already know the story…”
It is a silly story. I was about thirty. A man phoned to say that he and I were making similar work and should meet. I always worry I might miss out on something so I agreed. When he arrived he told me his art consisted of stopping women in the street and asking them to sleep with him.
Well he said, wasn’t one of my projects all about getting strangers to spend time in my bed? He told me he was taking me to a barbecue. I spent the whole evening playing the maid, grilling sausages, serving and cleaning up. Time goes by faster when you’re busy. Later he dropped me off outside my door. He leaned in to me and saught my lips. I pushed him away, “what’s make you think I’d want to kiss you ?* I protested. “Well, anyway, he answered, you eat like a pig”. Even today, after all these years, his words haunt me. I can’t remember a thing about him, yet he’s still sitting at my table.
Dinner Plates (French)