Wanders through yards of scrap iron merchants, through tips and metal junkyards. Does not ramble, does not stroll; prowls. Seeks adventure but not blindly. Searches. Explores. Runs towards discovery. Questions. Invents. Digs. Sets out to reconnoiter. Curious. Brings luck. Looks first at those things that have been thrown away. Then keeps them, conserves them, saves them.

In tips, seeks and finds the alluvion, the sediment, the strata of things. Picks them up. Gathers them. Walks between mountains of debris. Isolates the elements of these mountains. Pours them into a wheelbarrow. .

Picks metallic, worn, corroded, rusted, torn, shredded, twisted, bristling, rolled up, rolled out flowers. Or are they crushed, squeezed, strangled, stifled, oppressed, ripped out, disemboweled organs? .

Scrap, shavings, debris, waste. Which have been torn, bitten, lacerated, pierced, scratched, scraped, damaged by implacable machines, by time, by the wear and tear of things. Springs are naked and broken. Exhaust pipes explode. Forks shatter, bend and splay in metallic epilepsy. Breaks. Tears. .

In junkyards, feels the pain of things, their beauty, their humor. .

Loves rusted iron for its subtle oxidation. Chooses the "autumn dust" (1). A notion of Japanese aesthetic called "Sabi" which uses rust and patina. Otsuyu (1674 - 1739) wrote a poem: "autumn deepens / they dress in dead leaves / scarecrows"..

Appropriates things, transforms them, reassigns their use. Offers them metamorphosis. Mills them. In her workshop, she is alive to each tremor of life in each piece. At first the elements of a work-of-art-to-be are not soldered together, they are held in place by magnets, pincers, clamps: something like a sketch. All that remains to be done is to solder. .

Iron and fire. Forge. Arc-welding. United by fire. Assembles, links, combines. Incandescence. Iron and fire form a word. Locked together. In an embrace. Secret ceremonies. The heart beats. Celebration. .

Gilbert Lascault.