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Critical Text

When every morning we get up and get dressed we activate a language that will take us troughout all the day or, like Marivauxís female figure, every morning we can decide whatever communication or language that we prefer and that we wish to activate basing ourselves on what we want to activate and communicate about ourselves, building a text of which our body is not necessarily the meaning, but simply the support. But does our body support now having only become a mere piece of cloth? Hiding part of the body we show parts of ourselves. Hiding our body we put in perspective our soul, we display it basing ourselves on what others see, putting together in front of a mirror a point of view, a personal legibility. A dressed body, mine or yours, is a body invested with its own singularity. It is not the mere and aphasic instrument of a Haute couture fashion show, but the body for writing, where the cloth, as a particular material by itís fine faction, by itís colours and by their combination, makes appear the ďsoulís skinĒ(Nietzche).
We rewrite that of which we are partly victims and heirs, irresponsible and innocent detainers, we can contrast the transcendental imposition with which our phisyques determine our life and which sometimes slay it; and if this transcendence finds the acceptance within the fragile canons of beauty, we may favour it and consolidate it.
Here lies fashion. Not by chance the word fashion derives from the significative lexical family, where the ďmodeĒ notion reigns that designs on the subject about the sciences of language, the relation amongst the talking subject and that which the subject talks about, between who makes an action and its peculiar union in that action trough the use and distribution, in the announcement that takes care of the action in question, of verbs and modal operators. Modality is the irruption for violating the subjectivity in language and in communication, itís a large factor sometimes uncomfortable when it surpasses the rigour of usefulness, itís the part of style and art, part of God would say Glide, part of the Devil would say Joyce, like in a refined sauce that dresses a simple plate of boiled potatoes.
Now, we know that we can contrast the transcendence that unites us to our body not only trough a dress invested of our subjectivity, but intervening on our same body, on the path of dieting, of work-out or of false body parts.
We can modify our body with the patience of exercise and of daily discipline that takes in view of the fact of what we swallow and what we donít swallow, what we introduce, stick underneath our skin, and in this area of expertise silicone is master.
We can at this point imagine an infinite progress of reform and remodelling of our own body, like an incontainable fluidification of its forms, an accelerated instability and multiplication of aspect, that makes me come to the final destruction of transcendence, in which I have no determined aspect, but I get or I dream of getting a nevrotic multitude of its prospects and perspectives, as some boy artists put it well on show.
The sum of these writing operations and of body constructions, that act on the outside or under the skin, are the object of Elvezia Allariís interventions: clothes that arenít clothes, bags, bracelets, armlaces, that push a spectacular predominance of appearance, in a sandy and lumpy materical effect, the desire to make of the ornament the travalicant sign of the personal being, the elephant like track of personal legibility. Silicone isnít anymore the artifice that, hidden beneath the skin, forces the body towards a body dreamt by others, but it becomes dress and habit, jewel, where manipulation usually hidden to better fool and rend more real trough fittiscious, it is shown and becomes part of the primal vision: from the invisible that model the visible, which then becomes visibilityís same meat.
Clothes and habits to look at and to hang up like paintings, that reveal, in the labirinthic evolution of the silicone ďthreadĒ, the fooling and the fragility sometimes catastrophic of the bodyís manipulation. The bodyís brawl, becomes a mass of silicone, thread-like division of stones, a flowering of plastic, in which subjectivity is pushed to anorexy of speech until it becomes deafning and blinding, invading the visible in too much sense, taking it to obliterate the subject that produces it, to cancel itís support, denying it and making it useless and absent.
Here silicone evokes the tale of Arachne, destinyís web, Ariannaís new secret: the sewing in which even writing originates (texere, textus), would have been invented by women, said Freud, to hide the singularity of the female body. In our society the body has become showbiz, diktat and small talk, principle of being subjected in a very precise frame of esthetic and social imposition: westerners burkas. Elvezia Allari traces the bodyís journey, that on the wings of nonsense, in our civilization, as in all, is platted, trough hilariousness and admiration, drunk with heavy subjectís nectar.

François Bruzzo

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