j'ai peur de débarquer

My little tank. My little tank, straight from the Unknown World, exists as it is, and therefore symbolises armed conflict. The conflicts we are experiencing today all around the world, all caused by majestic ego clashes, are good examples of this. The tank is a powerful machine with a solid and imposing image; my little tank, however, is made of cardboard, so it will struggle to effectively fulfil its role as an attacker or protector. It also does not seem very motivated to serve, or perhaps it is hesitant to move forward out of fear... Perhaps it is simply the way it was built: if it cannot fulfil its function, then its existence becomes absurd. In a tank, we feel protected, and therefore extremely vulnerable. Vulnerable to the unknown and to death. When we get out of it, we realise that life hangs by a thread, by a detonator or a shot that we would have no chance of anticipating. The tank also carries a heavy historical and demographic past, between the lives it has taken and those it has saved: my little tank takes its inspiration from the M113, which was used in the Vietnam War in particular. How can one not feel a melancholic vertigo when faced with this colossus? I still remember the first time I disembarked from one of these tanks: my legs were still shaking from the vibrations caused by its movement, and one might have thought I was overcome with vertigo, perhaps from the feeling of being alive. Stepping off is like being struck by a sudden dizziness at the sight of the film of our life, because we know, with varying degrees of certainty, that we are reaching the end.

Cardboard tank, 220x160x180mm
Autonomous movement
Electric motor, 9v battery, cardboard, hinges, tape and hot glue, acrylic
Created in 2025 for the ‘76th Contemporary Art Biennial of La Chaux-de-Fonds’