From Paradise Lost to The Religion of Art

In some ways, Mathieu Latulippe’s exhibition Retour à Paradise Lost1  1  - Mathieu Latulippe, Retour à Paradise Lost, Optica, un centre d’art contemporain, May 17 to June 28, 2014.(Return to Paradise Lost) seems to invite viewers to note the presence of traditional Christian relics in Quebecers’ conception of the world. Given the debates over exactly where laicity fits into contemporary Québec society, such an initiative may prove to be quite timely. However, there is no clear indication that Latulippe wishes to engage in this debate or that he is encouraging a renewed relationship with religious heritage. Even though the title of the exhibition asks us to reflect on how certain religious ideas are positioned in the cultural imagination, pointing out the associations between paradise and the idea of the fall, redemption, guilt, and the Apocalypse, there is no question of establishing a sort of underlying inventory of the concepts and sacred figures in this presentation of Latulippe’s recent work. Rather, it seems more relevant to contemplate the meaning of the word “retour” (return) in the exhibition’s title. 

Although the title might lead us to believe that we will return to the Garden of Eden, we observe, when we enter the gallery, that Eden is nowhere in sight. With the imposing work Shit Happens # 1, to our right, and Welcome to Fabulous Paradise Lost, to our left, we understand that the paradise in question is of a different kind, probably more allusive, more conceptual. And when we look at the latter work, with its graphics and lettering typical of motel signs, we realize that Latulippe is inviting us on a road trip whose destination is not yet clear. It seems less about returning to places we once knew than about travelling through worlds both fascinating and disturbing — worlds seemingly affected by natural and technical catastrophes or characterized by wild, untamed nature; worlds that seem as disquieting as they do ideal; and worlds that mostly exude a strange impression of déjà-vu. It might be a good idea to recall here that in 2012, Latulippe devoted a large part of a creative residency² 2 - Si l’on considère la liste des films répertoriés, c’est au minimum une centaine d’heures que l’artiste a consacrées au visionnement des films. to watching science fiction, fantasy, and horror films³ 3 - This is the crossover program Résidence de recherche jeune création Montréal – Valence (France) between Optica and art3. focusing on the theme of the end of the world.⁴ 4 - On this end-of-the-world movie theme, see Peter Szendy, L’Apocalypse cinéma. 2012 et autres fins du monde(Capricci, 2012). . He then classified the images according to the types of representations of nature found in productions of this kind and collated them (160 photograms taken from films), without commentary, in Visions [Documents de recherche]. Thus, it comes as no great surprise that the exhibition contains reproductions of sunsets drawn from this type of film — in the works Sans titre [Godzilla – 1998] [Godzilla – 1998] and Sans titre [Jaws] [Jaws] — or a segment of the sound track of Night of the Living Dead (1968) ; nor is it surprising that certain components of the works seem recognizable. In fact, the minimalist white structure of Shit Happens # 1 is formally linked as much with the structure upon which the flocks in Alfred Hitchcock’s The Birds (1963) were assembled as with Sol Lewitt’s modular structures. Through the use of such cult movies, Latulippe reveals the constant oscillation between the notions of the sublime and of mesmerizing terror that run through his work.