Exhibition

Within this space, there is a house that repeats itself. Always the same, yet never entirely identical.

Here, the house tells no story. It shelters no scene, no body, no narrative. It is reduced to what it is: a symbol. A threshold. A presence. Inside and outside brush against one another without ever converging. The form is restrained, tightened, stripped of anything anecdotal or functional.

In Corinne Guého’s work, the house rises within volume. Born from its own fragments—two corner bricks assembled against each other—it closes in upon itself. Derived from forms and tools borrowed from the world of construction, it retains something of their original rigor. The shape remains fixed, almost immutable, while the surface becomes the site of slow transformation. Compact, stable, without openings, the house acts as a totemic object. A sculpture that cannot be traversed, yet that protects. A house reduced to its most archaic function: to stand upright against the world.

Each piece is unique. The hand guides the gesture, accompanies it, and accepts what escapes it. The firings, chosen one by one, introduce an element of uncertainty: low temperatures, naked raku, pit firing, carbon black, horsehair, or high-temperature firings for stoneware and porcelain. Fire inscribes its marks, revealing deep and velvety blacks, mineral surfaces, abstract landscapes, traces born from exchanges between oxidation and reduction. Through layering and stratification, the material absorbs time, wear, what surfaces and then disappears.

Through repetition, the house ceases to be a motif and becomes an obsession. A form imbued with spirituality, where the ordinary touches the sacred. Reduced to its essence, stripped of all narration, it opens itself as a naked symbol. A house without a story, yet charged with transcendence. A house that, in its utmost simplicity, becomes a site of meditation.