Words are maybe the atomic base of any work of art, even at the only moment of its design, even in a failed way : the tropisms. It's very obvious that the words govern us. A single example : god. Three letters, many problems. They are everywhere and everything is in them and independently of their quality Red-Cross, as a rampart against the ignorance and the madness of the men, there is their tyranny. The art doesn't like that and will have to twist them, to flood them, to confuse them, to play with them, to reinvent them and finally to free them of their yoke of dust and of proprieties. Et qu'elle soit formée des seuls mots à la manière d'une symphonie langagière voire d'un roman, ou de mots au renfort des autres moyens d'expression, chanson, street-art, cinéma nouvelle-vague, l'œuvre hyper-cognitive ainsi constituée se devra de rester consciente et digne de sa grande chance : avoir du sens. Elle en profitera donc pour rendre intelligible l'époque, et parce qu'on n'est pas des bêtes, elle tentera de concevoir un idéal. Mais gare : l'affaire est d'importance et exige donc la légèreté. À défaut, le bateau coulera.
