In Picasso's Presence: Sophie Calle Reflects on Art, Life, and Creativity
With her highly personal takeover of the Musée Picasso—a bold exhibition that juxtaposes her own art and archival objects with the work of the museum’s legendary namesake—Sophie Calle reflects on a lifetime of creativity.
Sophie Calle’s À Toi de Faire, Ma Mignonne at the Musée Picasso in Paris (on view through January 2024) is not only a mise en scène of works and themes from throughout her career—it was also an opportunity to empty her house in Malakoff, in the suburbs of Paris. Drawing on the question of what would happen to her things upon her death, as she has no heirs, the French contemporary artist inventoried a lifetime of objects and art in the manner of the famed auction house Hôtel Drouot. The items then installed on four floors at the Musée Picasso became a dress rehearsal of sorts for the inevitable auction of her estate—a way of exorcising the universal fear of one’s erasure.
Currently, Calle’s house is empty, and she lives in a hotel, using the spaces of the Musée Picasso as an office for the duration of the exhibition. On display are her piano, Eames chairs, a table by Charlotte Perriand, many taxidermied animals, old photos, works by other artists, wooden figurines, religious images, jewelry, clothing, and various portraits. There is even a brunette Barbie doll dubbed “Sophie Calle,” wearing a white nightdress and holding a pillow (“the joke of a friend,” Calle remarks), a callback to the 2002 conceptual work “Room with a View” that saw the artist sleeping at the top of the Eiffel Tower.
Clearing out Picasso’s works and memorabilia from the museum that bears his name and celebrates his legacy was the premise of Calle’s curious take on the 50th anniversary of the artist’s death. Her exhibition removed all Picasso works from the walls, leaving only his long shadow. Five significant Picasso paintings are concealed behind large curtains, mimicking the original works’ format, and are named the “Phantom Picassos.” A sizable artwork inspired by Picasso’s renowned painting “Guernica” integrates nearly 200 photographs, objects, and miniatures from Calle’s personal collection, acquired mainly through exchanges with various artists of her generation, such as Maurizio Cattelan, Damien Hirst, and Cindy Sherman.
Among Calle’s many works, her first, “Les Dormeurs,” in which she photographed friends and strangers who were invited to sleep in her bed for eight consecutive days, and “Prenez Soin de Vous,” a work in response to receiving a break-up email from a former lover, stand out. Presented in 2007 at the Venice Biennale, “Prenez Soin de Vous” was a turning point for Calle’s international recognition. Calle’s “quirky look” at a selection of Picasso’s signature works is sure to be one of her most ambitious installations.
L’OFFICIEL: Let’s start with “Guernica,” one of the most striking moments of the exhibition. How did you choose and assemble the works?
SOPHIE CALLE: I tried to insert a work from every artist in my house and combine them in a space of 27 square meters, the surface of Picasso’s painting. Most of it comes from exchanges with artists of my generation. Owning massive works would have been too complicated for economic reasons and space. It’s much easier and more personal to exchange small works, almost miniatures, with artists who agreed to play with me.
L’O: To build an exhibition related to Picasso, even with a blank slate, is complex and immense. While most of his pieces are packed up or veiled, his quotes left on the walls indicate affinities with recurring themes. Were they added after the fact, or did they serve as guidelines?
SC: It’s hard to put something next to Picasso. I can’t imagine a picture of myself next to his masterpieces; it’s too much. So I looked for a way around this, setting up plans by reading his texts to see which direction I could take.
"It’s hard to put something next to Picasso. I can’t imagine a picture of myself next to his masterpieces; it's too much."
L’O: Just as at the Musée de la Chasse et de la Nature, there are many taxidermied animals. It is both fascinating and startling.
SC: I started with bulls. I come from the South of France, and it is part of the traditional culture to have bullheads stuffed on the walls. It is not original at all; indeed, it’s just basic. Then, I found a dead owl in the fireplace, perfectly preserved. And then, gradually, more animals were added, and I started giving them all the names of my friends. So, for me, there’s nothing morbid; I just live with animals that have names.
L’O: Among your completed projects, which would you say are most significant today?
SC: They’re all important because it’s my life. Some works particularly struck a chord, and they aroused international interest in me, such as the one for the Biennale, which gave me excellent visibility; others because they helped me get out of a mood, but it’s the work that counts.
L’O: Much of your art is relational, both explicitly and consensually, and involves someone without their knowledge, such as in “Suite Vénitienne” or “The Hotel.” What role does the setting play in all this?
SC: First comes the rule of the game: each time, I set very precise, binding rules. “I’ll do exactly that.” Then there is the intervention. For example, when I had the idea to ask a blind man what beauty was for him, I hesitated a lot before starting the project because the question seemed cruel to me. Then, after two years, I came across a blind man who gave me such a perfect answer that I interpreted it as permission to proceed: “The sea goes so far that you lose sight of it.”
L’O: Was being a female artist a determining factor in your artistic choices?
SC: I couldn’t do what I did if I were a man. And I also think that working on my fears, on what I was missing, on my fragility and my failures, was easier as a woman.