{"id":21749,"date":"2024-11-02T14:59:55","date_gmt":"2024-11-02T14:59:55","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/fredericcastiau.com\/?p=21749"},"modified":"2025-08-25T22:52:51","modified_gmt":"2025-08-25T22:52:51","slug":"collages-2024","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/fredericcastiau.com\/?p=21749","title":{"rendered":"Collages 2024"},"content":{"rendered":"\n

\u201cSo Many Times, I\u201d<\/span><\/span><\/strong> – A4, 2024 (made with pictures from the book Collages & Assemblages, Verbeke Foundation 2017)<\/p>\n

Each collage in this series begins within strict, self-imposed limits. One book, one rule: in this case, a publication by the Verbeke Foundation on collage. Page after page is cut. No page is spared. The first page becomes fragments \u2014 sliced at random \u2014 and with its front and back, I compose in the centre of a white A4 page. Then the second page. And so on. The material dictates the moment. C<\/span><\/span>hance and serendipity are not just allowed \u2014 they are essential companions. <\/span><\/span>After assembling a collage, I turn the A4 round and round, letting the piece suggest its own orientation.<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n

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Over time, these images have begun to feel like solitary figures. They no longer speak of their origins. They have slipped free of context, memory, or meaning. I see them more and more as a kind of self-portrait \u2014 not in likeness, but in presence. Each one stands alone, quiet, unresolved, as if placed gently in the middle of a wide, white silence.<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n

The German word <\/span><\/span>Fremdk\u00f6rper<\/span><\/span><\/em><\/strong> comes to mind \u2014 a foreign body, something strange and out of place.<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n

And yet, there they are, together strong.<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n

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