Fayçal Baghriche, The Night of Doubt | Humor, Derision, Religion and Propaganda
Last spring, Galerie Jérôme Poggi hosted Fayçal Baghriche’s first Parisian solo show, titled “La nuit du doute” (“Night of Doubt”). The artist, who has reflected throughout his career on the creation of collective symbols, has worked with sculpture, photography and film for his first exhibition in Paris. In the muslim calendar, the night of doubt corresponds to the observation of a thin crescent moon in the night sky, announcing the beginning of Ramadan.
Humor, derision, religion, propaganda, cosmology and colonization — all of these elements converge in this exhibition, where the artist also revisits his childhood in Algeria. Here, H A P P E N I N G presents an extract of an interview conducted by curator Caroline Hancock with the artist, exploring this particular “historical” event. The full text is available here.
Fayçal Baghriche: Since the first broadcasts of this video, it seemed obvious that most of the sculptures that were being destroyed were replicas. With the exception of the Lamassu, the human-headed winged bull on the Nergal Gate, and the statue of the God of Rozhan that were disfigured with a jackhammer, the other statues that were smashed to the floor revealed the white plaster they were made with. Sometimes metal rods could be seen sticking out – these are typically used for castings. The ease with which the plaster sculptures break makes the jihadists' destructive gestures look more efficient.
Fayçal Baghriche, La nuit du doute, 2016, video 4/3, sound, 6'20". PhotoAurélien Mole
How do you propose to decode this dramatization of archeological objects?
According to my research, after 2003 most regional Iraqi museums replaced all their collections with replicas. Only the National Museum has its collections in secret storage spaces. Most of the museum galleries are closed and only a limited public can access them. The conservation work continue nevertheless and places particular attention on the inventory and digitisation of the works of art. In fact there is an entire section of contemporary archaeology devoted to digitisation and more recently 3D digitisation. Daech's wrecking has encouraged many institutional and private initiatives.
The Mossoul Project, for example, was launched by a group of university scholars inviting users to make 3D models based on photographs of the artworks that have disappeared or are in danger of doing so, in order to ensure their preservation in digital form. In April on Trafalgar Square in London, The Institute for Digital Archeology is meant to unveil a remake of the arch of the Palmyra Temple of Baal which was destroyed by ISIS. Other initiatives are constantly appearing and it seems to me that they have in common a particular commemorative and demagogic approach: hailing our common history and denouncing barbaric destructions by islamists. I decided to focus on the aesthetic aspects of the subject. I made a replica of the low-relief in the shape of a face that is seen hung high in the video. A jihadist slams a hammer on it several times. In these images, the face seems to harbour a silly smile. In the end, it collapses along the wall and crashes to the ground. It synthesises the jihadists' obsession to destroy heads. Every time a sculpture collapses on the floor, they behead it. The work I am presenting is a reproduction based on a 3D model which was then carved by digital milling on polyurethane foam. This material is generally used to produce a cinema sets, and also for prototyping. As such it is transitory, destined for the production of a mould for multiple editions.