A bunch of cherry pits swells over foam; a bundle of synthetic white pearls coils between purple lace underwear and metal chain; plastic jewelry here, snail shells there. Salomon (2020), Mimosa Echard’s most recent series, is a cornucopia of refuse. Mounted in Plexiglas boxes, these human-size, wall-hung works appear like bowels that pullulate with cheap junk opulence. They encapsulate, quite literally, the French artist’s obsession with the stuff of the everyday, reworking the mundane leftovers of our lives into viscous compositions.
Echard shows deep concern for the commingling of the self and the environment, often sullied, that surrounds it. If her loops of pantyhose containing profusions of depilatory wax and nail polish playfully flirt with gender associations, they also point at the intertwinement of our bodies with the plants and fluids that constitute, nourish, embellish, alter, and pollute them. Echard’s serpentine, lumpy compositions show the imbrications of a life where synthetic and organic cohabit, contaminate each other, and reformat one another. [Excerpt from the text by Charles Aubin on Mousse Magazine]