Kuroda - Ariadne's thread

It is thanks to Ariadne's thread that the emblematic silhouette of Aki Kuroda finds a carnal appearance in the guise of a woman. Her face and her body, of a disturbing sensuality, are, in fact, only made of a thread. 

aki kuroda breadcrumbs

Kuroda 16543, Portrait I, 2008 - 150 x 150 CM

Sometimes the thread becomes meanders of the ocean floor or the face of a frightened Alice, lost in her garden. Then the thread becomes Chevelure de Bérénice and Ariadne invites us on an interstellar journey.
Kuroda breadcrumbs

Kuroda 16579, Portrait III, 2008 - 150 x 150 CM

Ariane is both the woman and the high-tech machine, because now Ariane becomes a rocket. Theogony becomes Art and so that the Myth joins reality the CNES, National Center for Space Studies, provides Aki Kuroda with elements of satellites and his famous Ariane rocket so that the artist associates them with his large performance installations. The thread unfolds from work to work, from sculptures to paintings.

aki kuroda thread
aki kuroda thread
akikuroda breadcrumbs

Kuroda 111306, Acrylic on canvas, 2014 - 130 x 130 CM
Kuorda 16588, Labyrinth and spheres XI, 2009 - 38.5 x 56 CM
Kuroda 16592, Labyrinth and spheres XII, 2009 - 81 x 116 CM

Camille Fallen in Aki Kuroda's monograph, published in 2002, evokes this Ariadne's thread.

There is no longer the single island of Minos with a labyrinth in the center and a garden in the heart of it. First there is a garden traversed by the wind of chaos which blows on the threads of Ariadne, intertwined and divided. The threads little by little formed sponges - with holes and crypts - and they are so many islands that float in space. In these mazes, themselves elements of a larger labyrinth, time and space mix in colors and lines. Somewhere too, there is a Minotaur. So that ecstasy is saved.

The maze no longer has any entrance or exit. It is conjugated in the plural. As the figures are lost there from the beginning, they can no longer be lost there. We see them taking strange postures. They bustle or tumble from one wire to another, in white and gray: Space City. But there is no up or down. Space is pouring out on all sides. Unusual and solitary, they sometimes make us laugh, but with a new laughter, with a new anguish, that we didn't know we had before. Some of them travel on bases. Numbers and lines weave an increasingly complex universe. The puzzle of the cosmos increases and fragments: it is composed by decomposing, unlike the others. Centrifugal, he increasingly undoes plans. Its pieces separate, moving away from each other, bitten by chaos. The paintings are blue and black, Darkness in paradise or white and black, it is the Minosidereal triptych. The puzzle advances in space, the universe explodes and spreads, it opens like a bed of flowers, without us knowing its law, the language, the project, the future.

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