
Isabelle Martin
2021La Maison de carton
Isabelle Martin
"I had not only to pose before Chrismas crib like most children; I also posed before cottages, dolls houses, music box houses, lamp houses, cake houses, money-box houses and China-houses." In the same house a mother wonders if she will eventually have a place of her own ; a daughter sticks to her little world ; a father is satisfied with building sand castles. But will they dare to leave?
The Cardboard House
Tu as loué une voiture pour pleurer: crying in our cars
Isabelle Martin
Justine Junius
Sometimes you cry in other peoples’ homes. You ring up and say: I don’t want them to hear, I don’t want them to see me. Can you give me the keys to your place? In return you clean up, you vacuum a little or you leave a few choco- lates on the kitchen table. You have several sets of keys, several places to cry and bags full of gifts to leave there.
Crying in our Cars
Je danse devant toi toujours
Isabelle Martin
"Je danse devant toi..." or the ceremony of farewell. Leaving the other person is also a little like saying goodbye to oneself. Isabelle Martin sends this letter in the form of a visual poem to a lost soul mate and dances on "until [her] socks wear out".
I Go on Dancing before you