Oyonale - 3D art and graphic experiments
PosterAll yearsArtworks from 2001The classroom (detail) The classroom (detail) The classroom (detail) The classroom (detail) Classroom: original photograph Classroom: angel #3 Classroom: angel #3 Classroom: angel #3 Classroom: room #1a Classroom: room #4 Classroom: room #5 Classroom: room #5

The classroom
The classroom

Let's begin. What's your earliest recollection of him?

Earliest? He's always been there. All my life. He was probably hovering above my mother's womb when she conceived me, for all I know.

But do you remember when you were aware of him for the first time?

Aware of him? Again, it's... OK, I?m four years old, and I ride my tricycle in the street. My mom is chatting with a neighbour, I turn the corner and I disappear from her sight. There's a screeching sound, car brakes, and next thing we know, I?m crying my heart off. I?m safe, but my tricycle is a wreck. Witnesses say that I'd be a dead girl if a man in a black coat hadn't swept me off the tricycle one half-second before the car hit it. Mom says that I told her nothing, just that I had fallen. Today I?m sure to have seen a great dark shadow but I believe that I made it up.

Sorry, I don't understand.

No you can't. It's not about something I saw when I was four. It's about what I?ve been knowing since I was born. I didn't wake up one day being aware of him. I was never unaware of him. He's part of me, like... an organ, an external, invisible organ. We know about our own heart without seeing it, don't we? So this man-in-black thing is a construct I have built so I can picture him more easily, or tell about him in a more vivid way, like some sort of visual aid. When he does his things, he never wears a face. People may see him, and tell me so afterwards, but it can be anything, a man, a dog, a shout that makes me turn my head at the last moment.

And now, his presence has become... stronger. Is that the right word?

Well, yes. Until recently, he'd done a good job protecting me without intruding. The air around me was full of him but his presence was ethereal. He didn't transmute into something more solid unless I was in danger, like in the tricycle story. I was about to fall, or someone would try to harm me, and here he was, under some guise or another. But lately, it has been so different. Suddenly it wasn't just about saving me from whatever evils could befall me, but about controlling my life.

And you can prove this?

Oh, yes, there's plenty of evidence, like the things he breaks when he's mad at me, or the little accidents that seem to happen to all my boyfriends. But they?re no accidents, I can tell you. And I know he's right here now, listening to us and if he doesn't like what you say, or what I?m telling you, you should start watching your