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Some subterranean issues which irrigate the ecosystem
of my current artistic practice

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Vestiges of the walls of Dracy, February 2022 © DD Dorvillier

 

When we talk about preservation, of  a heritage site for instance, or a dance, what are we really talking about? What are we actually preserving?

And until when? And for whom?

The archeological site of the abandoned medieval village Dracy is well-known to the locals of the Commune of Baubigny. It lies on a path linking the four hamlets that make up Baubigny, including Evelle, where I live. From La Corvette (the dance studio in my backyard) one can reach Dracy by foot

in 15 minutes. And from Dracy you can see La Corvette, as part of a landscape of houses, forests, fields, and vineyards. I visit the site often, sometimes I dance there, sometimes I just sit on an old wall and write and daydream.

 

The site is, for all intents and purposes, a garden. Its stones, its walls, are often buried beneath a thick overgrowth of ivy, blackberry, nettles, moss,

and more. Twice a year, the town hall of Baubigny organizes a Saturday morning clean-up, carried out by volunteers, the villagers. It's a joyful way

to spend a morning, working alongside neighbors, unveiling the contours of the ancient walls, houses, and paths. But pulling up so much harmless vegetation, such luxuriant biodiversity, makes me uneasy. Yet, once the clearing is done, one realizes the importance of the site, its presence as

a witness of another way of human life, similar but at the same time so different from ours. The remains of the stone walls are witnesses to the work

of the hands and bodies that built it.


The question of preservation holds a strong contradiction here. I consider my current work to be OBSERVATION foremost, then finding ways

to negotiate these seemingly opposing forces of nature vs. culture. How to nurture situations in which one sensibility does not need to eradicate

the other in order to exist? It’s a real long term project.

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