When Eros enters your guts - by Laurent Curtens

For the past ten or so years Hughes Dubuisson has been experimenting with formal and expressive prospects of unstable and whimsical materials such as silicone, polyurethane, polyester and fiberglass.

Before mineralizing, these luscious and syrupy textures are often heaped upon wooden frames, forming gaudy, arborescent growths and inspiring concretions which eventually petrify into eccentric, independent sculptures literally bursting with energy.

The "Naturalia" are destined to submit to the laws of the frame, and after being coerced and applied to the artificial they softly settle with gravity – but not before yielding to the deft sweep of a knife, or being curbed by the cold silence of a smooth wall.

Abundance and confinement, profusion and limitation, hunger and abstinence: these are the tension lines you will find all along Hughes Dubuisson's work. What underscores these lines? What is it that connects you through these lines?

Desire, most certainly, an enormous appetite and visions of wedding banquets also. And at the same time: primal fear, burning fluids, devastating passion.
You feel like liberating the magma – but the magma burns: you must tame it, civilize its ardour.

Peering within…

Today these conflicting pulsions have found a certain equanimity as they confidently burrow their way through a network of galleries and alleyways inside plaster organs.

The tight skins of these smooth plaster bellies seem to tremble as they envelope the inner turmoil of the viscera. Each sculpture holds an opening and is pierced by a window that has been scrupulously placed to fit the alignment looked for by the artist. This window catches the eye and the body, and invites them into an inner landscape - a kind of wondrous otherworldly grotto furrowed with long flows of slow erosion.

This is all about time, evidently; about locked-in remembrance, shapeless and sometimes impenetrable. Search as it may and from different stances: the eye shall not disturb the intimacy.

Reminiscence, mystery and secrecy – this is where Hughes Dubuisson inexorably leads you with this technique: casting, a procedure he mastered while employed at the workshop of the "Cinquantenaire".

You must visit this cave full of molds and lurking ghosts. Walk through this hall of amassed clusters of fragments and profusion of copies: busts, heads and hands, all stacked unsorted.

Athletes, satyres and Venusses, Davids and Victories. Astonishing strangeness!
It is in these wholesome, yet somehow outdated roots, that Hughes Dubuisson finds his stimulating originality and confirms his love for sculpture.

Bonding affection through the flesh: whether it concerns the seeing or the making of, sculpture involves a one on one battle, it requires a physical effort.
And what about molding? Molding is not just defining a volume, surrounding it, mastering it; it is also embracing and possessing it. Endlessly – and still be able to reproduce it, polish it, caress it, finish it.

Hughes Dubuisson knows this silent intensity very well. It is part of him. His latest creations lay right in the heart of the manufacturing process and are not simply the end-result of it. They are the fruit, not the flowering.

His pieces are matrixes, open bellies, cracked guts, they are punctures on territories barely brushed against in an embrace, all slightly scorched in the process and exuding earthy sensuality and warm cavernous fluidity.

In these labyrinths and shelters the host/guest (voir selon le sens voulu: l'hôte ou l'invité) loses himself: the polyurethane core has dissolved into the print, has decomposed in his search for the origines.

Laurent Courtens
Traduction: Karin et Yardenah Presler