Simon Feydieu takes his sculpture-creatures out of the studio to exhibit them: to see them in the light, in open air. He photographs them, then takes them down, sometimes the very same day. They’re often fragile, made of plaster or OSB, laser-printed and roughly varnished. They seem wobbly, compositions playing with instability, lack of substance and volume. Form is economical, but not the time spent building, moving and installing them. The artist seems less concerned with their longevity than the brief moment the works incarnate when they leave the studio. […] It’s a versatile practice, nonchalant and pragmatic. From the vocabulary of manufacturing, he creates a work as archaic as it is unprecedented.
I discovered the chaos of his workspace. The artist maintains in his studio a big clutter out of which the oeuvre must emerge in order to be seen.

Excerpt from a text by Amélie Lucas-Gary, 2024
Translated by Elaine Krikorian, 2024