Is it just a coincidence that this fantastical catalogue of French artist Sophie Calle's projects over the years ever so slightly resembles, in its intimate size (23.5 cm x 16.8 cm) and padded cover, a diary? Indeed, the first "piece," which accompanies Calle's exhibition "M'as-tu vue"
(meaning, alternately, "did you see me?" or "a show-off") at the Pompidou Center in Paris this spring, consists of excerpts from Calle's own journal. Calle's work is at its core an exploration of the seemingly infinite number of facets of identity, either mimetic, representational or essential. She has followed strangers to Venice ( "Suite vénitienne,"); had herself followed by a detective, twice ("The Shadow" and "Twenty Years Later"); contacted names found in a lost address book ("The Address Book"); worked as a chambermaid ("The Hotel"); followed instructions given to her by writer Paul Auster for "How to Improve Life in New York City" ("Gotham Handbook") and lived out certain episodes from his fictional character, Maria, in Leviathan
("The Chromatic Diet" and "Days Under the Sign of B, C & W"); filmed her disintegrating relationship ("No Sex Last Night"); was psychologically evaluated in a collaboration with Damien Hirst ("Psychological Assessment"); and developed negatives from the burned apartment of a missing woman ("A Woman Vanishes"), among many other enticing projects. In the pieces, ranging from 1978 to 2003 and generously documented in 500 color illustrations, it is Calle's own intense emotional involvement that prevents them from becoming cold, ironic, detached or overly "conceptual." The preface by Alfred Pacquement and introductory essays by editor Christine Marcel and Yve-Alain Bois are heavy on academic artspeak, but luckily fail to block the immediacy of Calle's intimate reflections. (Apr.)
