Not a «Swiss knife» type of curator
An interview with French curator Matthieu Poirier
The much anticipated second edition of Paris+ par Art Basel’s public programme will take place at six iconic venues in the French capital this October. One of the highlights is the exhibition at the museum spaces of the Palais d’Iéna, which brings together two artists with exceptional careers: Michelangelo Pistoletto (Biella, Italy, 1933) and Daniel Buren (Boulogne-Billancourt, France, 1938). Proposed and curated by art historian Matthieu Poirier, with the support of Galleria Continua, the exhibition will unite works conceived and realized in response to the specifications of the Palais d’Iéna. Poirier amiably describes the venue as “a sculpture park under a roof”. He elaborates, “I certainly hope that visitors will appreciate the articulation between the two artists’ contributions and the architectural work of Auguste Perret from 1937 and notice the exhibition’s transforming beauty, based on the interplay of natural light within the Palais d’Iéna or according to the evolution of the viewer’s own position.”
Matthieu Poirier – holder of a doctorate, a former teacher-researcher in contemporary art history at Sorbonne University, and a specialist in Abstract and Perceptual art – has played a significant role in shaping contemporary art history. With a playful twinkle in his eyes, Poirier consistently curates bold, in-depth exhibitions worldwide, always seeking to fill gaps in art history and renew aesthetic concepts. Among his notable large-scale exhibition projects is “Dynamo. A Century of Light and Movement in Art. 1913–2013”, presented at the Galeries Nationales du Grand Palais in Paris in 2013. This exhibition featured almost 150 prominent visual artists who explored the realms of perception and space. Another remarkable undertaking was “Suspension. A History of Abstract Hanging Sculpture. 1918–2018”, which displayed over 50 works and was the first ever gathering of this sculptural type at the Palais d’Iéna. In the exhibition “The Brutal Play”, held at the Foundation CAB in Brussels, he presented sculptural works by various artists spanning the constructivist era, 1960s minimalism, and the present day – “Brutalist sculpture” in parallel with Brutalist architecture. Since 2014, he has proposed and designed several museum-quality exhibitions to inaugurate representations by the Perrotin galleries in Paris and New York City, including for Hans Hartung and Jesús Rafael Soto.
The upcoming duo presentation of works by Michelangelo Pistoletto and Daniel Buren during Paris+ par Art Basel is promising. The anticipation is being heightened by the deliberate absence of specific details or images prior to the opening. Furthermore, no document, image, or on-site video will genuinely capture the essence of the installation, according to Poirier. This strategy perfectly aligns with his curatorial approach – art exhibitions must possess a sense of singularity through physical engagement.
Daniel Buren and Michelangelo Pistoletto. Courtesy Galleria Continua
I noticed paintings by Anne Neukamp and Philippe Decrauzat in your office. How frequently do you rotate the displayed art?
You wouldn’t believe how poorly these artworks are hung.
Says an art curator…
Hah!
These two pieces are undoubtedly among my favorites. I will soon accompany them with a photograph by Brazilian visual artist Lucia Koch, titled “Cheese” (2020). At first glance, the motif appears to be an architectural structure, a detail of modernist architecture. However, it’s actually a close-up of a local cheese box crafted to safeguard the block of cheese from flies.
I must confess that I lean towards maintaining a simple ambience in my personal space. There are so many books around, that I enjoy bits of plain white walls. I am surrounded by artworks from the moment I wake up until I retire for the night. For me, art constitutes an experience not necessarily in a domestic setting, except for reading about it. Think of it like going to see a movie at a cinema: you step into a distinct environment with specific conditions, and you completely immerse yourself in the experience. I derive equal, if not greater, enjoyment from attending exhibitions. Nothing can reduce the complexity and the specificities of a proper exhibition.
Work by Philippe Decrauzat at Matthieu Poirier's apartment
You are an art historian, an independent curator, a writer, and an art collector. Our paths cross several times a year at European art fairs.
I’d rather say that I am a “multi-dependent” rather than independent curator… However, my primary focus lies with generations of artists born in the early 20th century until the 1960s-70s. This aspect of my work is both gratifying, as it allows me to collaborate with remarkable historical figures, and sad at times, as I have worked with hundreds of them, and these sometimes very aged individuals naturally pass away… This somber reality is an integral and heartrending facet of my activity.
It’s like witnessing the decline of your personal heroes, an intensely emotional experience.
I always consider myself incredibly fortunate to have had the opportunity to get to know them, and also the people closest to them. Caring about connections with the families holds great significance. I prefer to engage exclusively with individuals who prioritize the artist’s legacy rather than financial gain. I’ve seen magnificent estates deteriorate rapidly due to excessive ambition or inadequate preservation efforts.
Work by Anne Neukamp at Matthieu Poirier's apartment
Do you collaborate with emerging artists?
I’ve been teaching art history and theory at the Sorbonne, to scholars, and in some of the best French art schools (École Nationale Supérieure des Arts-Décoratifs and École Nationale Supérieure d’Art de Paris-Cergy) since 2009. I am also deeply committed to, as you mentioned, attending art fairs and exhibitions of artists from every generation. I genuinely enjoy interacting with emerging artists. I have served on many juries for academy graduates and have worked with them in sessions. This is essential to grasp current trends and sensibilities. We often say that the history of art is essentially a history of taste. Therefore, what holds relevance in the present day? That which defines the current sensitivity defines our perception of history, and transforms it. It’s the same meaningful process when I select, sometimes among thousands of works, an ensemble of works of one artist. I translate the silent language of the work into words, and I put the creations in a historical perspective – that’s my role as a historian; but also, as a curator, I have to reflect this knowledge when I select which moments of the career are the most relevant today – while risking being wrong, of course.
Perhaps this question is a bit out of place, but how did you get into the world of arts? How did that journey begin?
I discovered art history through a very wide and obvious gateway: Surrealism and Abstract Expressionism (AbEx). I remember watching the silent French Dada short film “Entr’acte” (René Clair, 1924) as a young boy, and I vividly recall thinking, “The art life seems so very alive and exciting!” There was a coffin autonomously traversing the streets, trailed by a procession of people having a wonderful time! Another significant moment might be my first encounter with Mark Rothko’s later paintings at a Chicago museum when I was 14. My initial reaction was, for a second: “What on earth is this? What’s the motive?” Yet, it didn’t take long for me to be absorbed by it. In 1991, thanks to an artist friend of my parents, I dove into “Heavy Water”, the temporary immersive installation by James Turrell housed at the Confort Moderne art centre in Poitiers. I guess that these episodes, coupled with my childhood aspirations of becoming a psychoanalyst, were the beginning of my academic journey.
During my time as an art history student at the Sorbonne, the curriculum covered an exhaustive range of subjects – prehistoric, antique, medieval, renaissance, and beyond. I wasn’t happy because all I wanted was to study and understand post-war abstract art and nothing else, but I learned the essentials: the methodology and the ethics. Looking back, I believe I spent around 12 years studying at university in order to define a specific field. Ironically, my initial inclination had little to do with pursuing a curatorial career. I just wanted to understand what I was seeing.
What is your curatorial approach to maintaining a clear focus and making a meaningful contribution to the history of artists’ exhibitions?
Let’s consider the physical space: I distanced myself from the “white cube” concept, realizing that it’s far from being a neutral environment. I often contemplate the analogy of religious architecture: upon entering, paintings and sculptures surround and envelop you. The impact of this complex space on you can be as profound, if not more so, than that of the artworks. Hence, as a curator, you must engage in “Austellungsmachen” – the act of crafting an exhibition as an ephemeral yet distinct entity, beyond research and intellectual content.
Moreover, about 90% of art content today is apprehended digitally, and viewed on bright screens. Given this digital prevalence, exhibitions must absolutely possess a sense of singularity – an identity through physical experience. This philosophy has always underpinned my curatorial approach: offering viewers an encounter that cannot be replicated through any other medium.
When collaborating with artists for exhibitions or monographs, I stress comprehensive research. This involves thorough reading, note-taking, and meticulous mapping before I express a single personal thought. However, if one doesn’t delve deeper, they essentially find the same information available to everyone. Artists are often meticulous about controlling their narrative.
While an artist’s statement matters, my practice centres on the work itself. I counterbalance artist narratives with critical, curatorial, and journalistic commentary alongside my interpretation. At this point, I’m more akin to a critic than an art historian. Art historians lean toward factual, book-based approaches, while critics enjoy the freedom to create parallel poetic discourse. Art history is, in a sense, the history of historians. My methodology, and writings, tend to embrace multiple voices, summarizing existing conversations about art.
What, in your opinion, is the role of a curator in today’s context?
I believe that expert curators play a crucial role. Formal curatorial training has its limitations; real learning of the whole logistics takes place in the field. Starting as a curatorial assistant and gaining hands-on experience is a practical pathway.
In the current landscape, many curators prioritize short-term trends over historical accuracy, mostly due to insufficient academic training or commitment. I, too, strive to infuse creativity into my work while anchoring my approach in knowledge, logical reasoning, and consideration of the viewer’s experience. I find myself naturally returning to my academic roots, letting go of what doesn’t resonate with me. Curation and art history entail more than just assembling objects. I neither possess the inclination nor the authority to curate anything that comes my way; I’m not a “Swiss army knife” type of curator. Having worked with hundreds of artists and estates, I have to carry and “curate” my own mental museum, with its collection, its highlights, and its temporary thematic obsessions.
Furthermore, insightful commentaries that facilitate a deeper understanding of artworks are quite rare. Crafting and making an event eloquent and intellectually stimulating, and contributing to an artist’s career, a trend, or a theme, holds immense significance. Without an approach akin to that of a “caretaker”, the influx of images in the global stream remains devoid of meaning.
Let’s talk about the upcoming exhibition in October at the Palais d’Iéna, in which you bring together two artists with exceptional careers: Michelangelo Pistoletto and Daniel Buren. Interestingly, this isn’t the first exhibition you’ve curated at Palais d’Iéna.
Indeed. It’s my fourth.
Do you have a special relationship with this space?
Since 2016, I have had the space for one month and a half every year to programme and organize an art show of my choice. The main exhibition space is 1100 square metres, with seven-metre-high ceilings surrounded by gigantic windows. It’s basically a sculpture park under a roof, which makes it the ideal space to show large-scale three-dimensional works.
[In 2022, Lucia Koch’s works turned the interior into a tactile site-specific installation. – Ed.]
What prompted you to bring together these two positions, Pistoletto and Buren?
This has never been done before! I’ve always thought that their respective careers should be put in dialogue. Since the 1960s, they have known each other and have both shown in their respective works a keen interest in architecture, radical geometric abstraction, and real-time and spatial experiences, as well as the physical and visual presence and participation of the viewer. The Palais d’Iéna, with its grand open museum and non-hierarchic spaces, appeared to be the perfect setting for such a conversation.
This show is being realized in collaboration with Galleria Continua.
Galleries representing artists for a very long time, like here with Pistoletto and Buren, make for some of the best patrons you can imagine to fund an exhibition. They are dedicated supporters and possess expertise in artists’ careers. Our shared objective is to support artists and make art accessible to the public. I wanted this original duo to happen and, thanks to Lorenzo Fiaschi, one of the gallery’s directors, I successfully convinced both artists who knew each other already, but not to a significant extent, to cohabit within the same space.
Is this included in the gallery’s presentation at Paris+ par Art Basel?
There’s no commercial aspect involved in this institutional show. It happens that this excellent gallery does participate in the fair. I personally proposed the gallery participate as patrons, and Paris + par Art Basel invited us to include the exhibition in their official public programming. It’s as simple as this: a public institution hosting a show partly that is supported in great part by a gallery and promoted by an art fair, as a non-commercial side event.
I’ve heard questions raised about the true intentions of the fairs as they expand into the city’s historic venues. To briefly quote: “Is the goal to establish a monopoly over the city’s cultural offerings?”
These are common speculations. I mean, Paris+ par Art Basel is a fantastic fair that hosts fantastic galleries from all around the world. It’s a commercial endeavour operating in the realm of art dissemination, connecting collectors, buyers, and galleries that serve as intermediaries between artists and buyers. And that’s how the system functions. Of course, there exists a fine line between institutions collaborating with commercial galleries and commercial galleries collaborating with non-profit institutions. However, my primary focus remains on the essence – the art exhibition. It’s about bringing something meaningful to the forefront. For instance, in 1970s Switzerland, Philip Morris Tobacco sponsored exceptional exhibitions. Partnering with an art gallery is certainly one of the most appropriate collaborations you could think of.
In my view, this dynamic presents a productive and intelligent approach to combining both institutional and private resources for the greater good.
On a different note, what can visitors anticipate from this exhibition of two major artists?
One might witness a contemporary echo of Josef Albers’ work, emphasizing the “discrepancy between the simplicity of the facts and the complexity of the effects”.
As a true Parisian, could you offer recommendations for places to visit while attending Paris+ par Art Basel in October?
Wandering through the quiet and underrated Left Bank, Quartier Latin, and Saint Germain areas is a must. For rare art books and vintage art editions, consider visiting Libraire Ozanne (21 rue Monge, 75005). For great food options, La Boissonnerie (69 rue de Seine, 75006) is a standout. Don’t miss out on Jardin des Plantes and the Panthéon as well.
Title image: Matthieu Poirier in the Palais d’Iéna.Photograph Marion Berrin by Art Basel
