FROM 23 MAY TO 22 JUNE

 

Closed on Mondays

Open from Tuesday to Friday from 12 p.m to 7 p.m

Satrudays and Sundays from 11 a.m to 7 p.m

Late nights on 23 - 24 May and 30 - 31 May until midnight

 

2, rue Viguerie

31000 Toulouse

 

Metro Saint-Cyprien

République (Line A)

Bus : lines 2, 10, 12, 14, 78, 80


Map
Hôtel-Dieu 

Credits: Franck Alix, Toulouse International Art Festival, 2013

Georges Jeanclos portrait 

© Mnam-Cci  Bibliothèque Kandinsky 

 

Photo: Jacques Faujour

Portrait of Elsa Sahal 

© Mark Lyon, 2014

ELSA SAHAL 

Film produced by La Machine.

LA MACHINE supports the festival and brings  its vision by realising a series of documentaries about the artists programmed since 2013.

Elsa Sahal's exhibit at L'Hôtel-Dieu 

Photo: Nicolas Brasseur, Toulouse International Art Festival 2014

Elsa Sahal's exhibit at L'Hôtel-Dieu 

Photo: Nicolas Brasseur, Toulouse International Art Festival 2014

Nus couchés 

(2014)

Elsa Sahal

 

Photo: Nicolas Brasseur, Toulouse International Art Festival 2014

Altar 

(2012)

Elsa Sahal

 

Courtesy of Galerie Claudine Papillon

Photo: Nicolas Brasseur, Toulouse International Art Festival 2014

Georges Jeanclos's exhibit at L'Hôtel-Dieu 

Scenography by Romain Guillet

 

Photo: Nicolas Brasseur, Toulouse International Art Festival 2014

Georges Jeanclos's exhibit at L'Hôtel-Dieu 

Scenography by Romain Guillet

 

Photo: Nicolas Brasseur, Toulouse International Art Festival 2014

Georges Jeanclos's exhibit at L'Hôtel-Dieu 

Scenography by Romain Guillet

 

Photo: Nicolas Brasseur, Toulouse International Art Festival 2014

Tambour 

(1994)

Georges Jeanclos

Terracotta

 

Private collection

Credits Nicolas Brasseur, Toulouse International Art Festival 2014

Founded in the 12th century by the Daurade community, the Hôpital Saint-Jacques “of the end of the bridge” was connected to the church of La Daurade by a covered bridge. After the great plagues of the 17th century, in the 18th century the hospital opened rooms for women, children and the chronically ill, while the nearby La Grave building became a hospital for isolating the plague-stricken, beggars, prostitutes and the insane. In 1793, determined to secularise these institutions, the revolutionaries renamed them “Hospitals of Humanity and Beneficence”. Today, the Hôtel-Dieu houses the administrative services of the Assistance Publique (hospitals authority), European research centres, two hospital museums, and exhibition rooms. It is now a Unesco World Heritage building because of its importance on the Santiago de Compostela pilgrimage route.

Georges Jeanclos was born 1933 and died in Paris in 1997. 
After studying at the École des Beaux-arts in Paris (1952-58), he won the Premier Prix de Rome in 1959 and stayed at the French Academy in Rome from 1960 to 1964. In 1966 he started teaching  at the Beaux-arts in Paris. His work has been regularly exhibited in France and internationally. In 1999 he had  a retrospective in Lille (Hospice Comtesse) and in 2002 a show at the Musée d’Art et d’Histoire du Judaïsme.  His many public commissions include the decoration for the entrance to the Hôtel Départemental de Police  in Toulouse.

Elsa Sahal was born in 1975 in Paris where she works and lives.
She’s graduated from the École Nationale des Beaux-arts de Paris in 2000 and has exhibited regularly since 2002 with her gallery, Claudine-Papillon. In 2007 she embarked on a productive collaboration  with the Manufacture de Sèvres. Winner of several prizes for contemporary sculpture, she had a solo show  at the Fondation Ricard in 2008. In 2012 her Fountain was exhibited in the Tuileries gardens as part of the FIAC “Hors les murs” programme. She teached at the École Supérieure des Arts Décoratifs  in Strasbourg from 2005 to 2012.
In the rooms of the Hôtel Dieu a dialogue develops between two sculptors from different generations, Georges Jeanclos and Elsa Sahal. They met at the Beaux-arts in Paris, where Jeanclos was Sahal’s teacher. Their shared love of the land gives rise to two very different bodies of work: one is figurative, meditative, symbolist and even mystic, the other organic, colourful and whimsical or disturbing. Small figures on one side and large formats on the other show the contrasting facets of these two highly personal approaches to sculpture, the parallels and tensions between which are brought out by  this juxtaposition.
 
In “L’Atelier”, Georges Jeanclos described the physical aspect of making his work, handling “ten kilos of soft clay,” “obliquely striking” the ground in order to make plaques: “The ground resonates and the earth stretches. I have to calculate to the nearest centimetre this way with the ground that allows you to stretch the material, to make visible this memory of the earth, in which each action is recorded and memorised, to draw out memory, remorse from the very depths of matter. All the unconscious, filtered acts reappear as a result of the effort.” This effort is hard to imagine, for the sculptures have a striking fragility about them, due to the artist’s work on the plaque and their hollow core, which sometimes causes them to collapse in the process of execution, but also to the motifs (urns, sleepers, lovers,
children, etc.) that appear, with the material they emerge from constantly threatening to swallow them up again. Grounded in the universal history of art, Jeanclos’s work, informed by his Jewish culture, is a response to the great trauma of the Second World War. Hence the impression that, through this titanic work and its very delicate results, he is trying for a form of reparation. As he wrote:  “Earth below, I am trying to raise you up towards  this world above, that I do not know.”  What Elsa Sahal recalls from Jeanclos’s teaching  are the drawing sessions at the Louvre where he taught his students to “see the harmony of forms” and “invent and, above all, not repeat things.” She also remembers him directing the research workshop at the Manufacture de Sèvres in 1970s, working to renew the art of ceramics, which she has explored from a contemporary viewpoint since the early 2000s. This medium suits her desire to make “big” sculptures and to “pit my body against something that metamorphoses” and at the same time carries the memory of the energy of the action. Such  are the most apparent characteristics of her sculptures, which bring into play indefinable yet evocative forms (varied facets of biological life), which seem to be caught up in a process of constant transformation, driven by  an undeniable vital force. Sexual allusions are frequent, as in the world of Elmar Trenkwalder, but with one major difference: these vulvas and penises have a very different resonance when shaped by a woman’s hand. Then  there is also the artist’s scatological and deliberately sophomoric humour, her toying with the distinction  between good and bad taste in her use of colour. All these are challenges to the conventional ideas of sculpture  that she is constantly questioning.