D’abord, froidement déstructurer le corps tiède en parcelles et les dupliquer en se jouant finement des lois de la nature.
Avancer encore dans cette phase de décomposition et réduire en charpie.
Saisir la colle de peau et procéder à la remise en place micro-chirurgicale.
Terminer par la touche de fard de l’embaumeur, au fusain de cendres noires.
Ne pas oublier la mouche finale. Rieuse ou envahissante c’est elle qui marque l’instant, signe la vie ou la mort.
Les installations de Gérard Mathie évoquent tous les martyres de l’humaine condition, ces souffrances endurées placidement, bras ballants, torses offerts aux aiguillons sanglants et mouches bourdonnantes.
Mais l’apparent sacré laisse place au profane et les titres lyriques permettent l’envolée.
Ces corps pendus, perdus, comme tous les résistants du monde face à leurs oppresseurs, yeux bandés regardent encore le bourreau en face et chantent.
Ultime pied de nez, l’artiste se bat, joue des coudes et des mains, se démultiplie comme Shiva et attrape au vol quelques mouches. Geste dérisoire et pourtant salvateur qui lui restitue pour un temps sa dignité. Il en profite alors pour lorgner les nues aguichantes et quelques grâces distantes.
Ce court répit, qui n’est qu’un battement de cils aux yeux de l’éternité, suffit pour signer une œuvre chargée de chair et de sens.

Raphaelle Lubliner, 2001



First, he methodically cuts up the warm body by duplicating it piece by piece, unfettered by the laws of Nature which he playfully infringes.
He carries on still further with this phase of decomposition by tearing them to shreds.
Then, he picks up the organic glue and undertakes the microsurgical patching-up of these fragments.
He ends up his work by applying the touch of make-up of the embalmer with ash-coloured charcoal.
He does not fail to add the final fly. Either laughing or intrusive, its presence marks the present moment and signs life or death.
The works of Gérard Mathie evoke all the agonies inherent to mankind, the sufferings endured placidly with arms dangling, and chests offered to bloody stings and buzzing flies.
Then, the sacred, visible and obvious, gives precedence to the profane and the lyrical titles allow the flight of poetry.
Like all those in the world who stand up to their oppressors, these bodies hanged and lost look their executioners in the face, in spite of their blindfolds, and they sing.
In an ultimate gesture of derision, the artist fights, elbowing his way to his aim. His multiple arms, like those of Siva’s, catch a few flies as they fly past. This pathetic and yet saving attempt restores his dignity for a while and enables him to peer at some enticing nudes and distant graces.
This short respite, which lasts no more than a blink in the eyes of eternity, is all the artist needs to sign a work laden with flesh and meaning.

Raphaelle Lubliner, 2001