Each sphere invented by YaNn Perrier is a world in itself with its geography, its climate, its mystery and it's own music, its revelation. We interpret, we join in the game, we believe in it, we see intuitively, we guess. YaNn turns us into magicians. A tiny abstract of elementary shamanism is the basis of his teaching. Neither theory nor abstraction, neither waffle nor distance : wood, air, colours, fire, the redeeming closeness of dream. The simplicity of the Living. Some sort of miraculous shelter to look for a clearing and an opening in the gold of our own gazes.
Between presence and absence, time and eternity, light and darkness, Bergson and Heidegger (and even ...Tolkien, Hergé and George Lucas) the soothing confidences whispered by YaNn are an invitation to visit this lost country that each of us wishes we could rediscover : a faraway place sensed just as true as the one here.
For a while we would almost forget the sculptor's art : each sphere is natural. The mineral, the plant, the flame and the smoke, an ice-like transparency and its enigmas, the emptiness are self-sufficient in their own rights. No need for bragging or lesson of aesthetics to tell us what to see. With YaNn Perrier nothing is artificially innovative and that's why everything is new. And beautiful. Like Emily Dickinson's confession : I felt as if the grass was pleased.
Then each sculpture whispers to us the beginning of a story and the most striking thing is that we surprise ourselves telling the rest. And that is priceless.
Philippe Aubert de Molay, scriptwriter, Christmas 2010
Translated by CG