As far as I can remember, I don’t know when I saw a Giacometti for the first time. But I remember staying long minutes in front of Hands holding a void at the Moma when I first discovered this piece of art. What a surprise, a few days after to be standing in front of the white one at the Yale University Art Gallery.
I am not a sculptures specialist at all. But staring at those primitive faces made me feel all the weight of the world in this very simple faces. How disturbing.
In Louisiana. Again. Here I go with an internal dialogue I already had with the Hands holding the void. Strong. Sad. Heavy. Intense.