Corine Borgnet’s work, beneath its playful and unexpected surface, is entirely turned toward the world of childhood, which she sees as the original and ultimate territory of freedom.
It is not that she feels a particular nostalgia for that “enchanted interlude,” but rather that she considers this phase of life a privileged space-time—one in which the dual grip of pleasure and childhood fears, the wellspring of all imagination, has not yet collided with rationality, the reality principle, or economic necessity. It is from this whimsical, untamed spirit that Corine Borgnet draws the fuel for her creativity—as a form of resistance, a perpetual struggle against the loss of the dreams and sensibility of childhood.
Reclaiming that territory is, in fact, what led her back to art, after a detour through the corporate towers of New York.
And yet, the “childlike” world of Corine Borgnet is far from infantile. It has little to do with the sanitized, sugary, reassuring imagery of animation studios. Here, beauty—flowers, Lolitas, angel wings, the glossy finish of resin sculptures—is but a fragile veneer over something darker, stranger, more unsettling…
Excerpt from “THE YOUNG” by Marie Deparis-Yafil
