The butterfly tree

Concept

Talking about Dripping in sculpture without falling into a flow of paint on a three-dimensional support seems to be a challenge.
But by observing closely, Philippe melts the metal and it flows drop by drop to give a hazardous shape. The participation of the whole body is present and not just the intellect. Then the paradox can be glimpsed, we feel the curtain raising and it reveals a solution to this alternative.
Dripping, as Pollock was fond of, is access to an unconscious, bodily buried, archetypal memory. An evanescent divine chance brought to light and form.
The classic or abstract interiorized projection then in the sand, frozen in the space of the mold, receives by fusion, liquefaction, the drops one after the other. The loss of mastery and access to another dimension are the key words of the speech, of a communication between the sculpture and the sculptor.
Hollows and bumps, voids and fills, accidents create a play between light and shadow. This lace is a suggestive creation that appeals to the idyllic, chimerical, archetypal, or obscure, black history of each individual. A personal story is regenerated, recomposing the work. It reinvents its own history like an alluvium dragged by the current of the river, of life. It transforms in an infinitesimal or radical way, the individual I of the creator and the spectator into a new revisited.
Our personal history, real or told cognitive memories, is reconstructed with each frozen drop of eternity. But through our eyes, the lace becomes soluble in our personal history which is endless in contrast to the tales of which we know the end. Even death, however uneducable, will not get the better of our personal stories told in private or in broad daylight.
This acquired and specific property of never having an end and the power to take a new detour every second, is the source of individual freedom. All recast cognitive histories are the means of reconstruction of its world, of our world.