The heavens are an inextricable jumble of creatures that fly, cross and collide; harpies, basilisks, griffins, mermaids, dragons, birds small and large, insects of all sizes and colours, Pegasus, Joseph of Cupertino, all the creatures that inhabit the heavens and our imagination, the Lion of Saint Mark, the Bull of Saint Luke. The devil has wings, the archangels too.
Give us wings! (Donnez-nous des ailes!) The project is praiseworthy, certainly, but we know what happened to Icarus when Daedalus, his father, who had provided him with wings to join the clouds and the sun in the skies, in front of jealous gods, sent him to his death. It seems accepted that it is not possible to fly with a single wing and, generally, the creatures which cross space have two wings which are sufficient for them to cover astonishing distances, to reach prodigious speeds, to glide or good to hover like the Holy Spirit, for example. We observe, however, without really knowing why, that dragonflies have four wings as do the cherubim that accompany Elijah's chariot while the seraphim have six. I don't know if any creature has four, five, six pairs of wings or more; we do know that excess is bad for everything!
It should be noted, however, that a single wing is sufficient to for protection. It then acts like a solid shield placed in front of the body, the brain, or more often, the heart weakened by some dream: a defence of light feathers. Wind and rain transport mountains and change the order of things governed by the laws of the universe. The air and the clouds carry the grains of sand to build elsewhere, in distant countries, other fluid mountains, unstable at first, then frozen in rocky masses that seem immutable; and behold, in the sky, incalculable specks of dust fly in the company of the flying fish, the souls of the dead and birds adorned with the clear gold of the stars.
Give them wings, as well as to the wandering images, to the beauty of the doves, to the linen hanging on a wire, to the stray words which disperse and invade any spirit that is willing to let itself be invaded, any person who, with fertile doubt, welcomes them with pleasure.
Laurent Busine
Art historian and curator. Former director of MAC'S in Grand-Hornu from 2002 to 2016. Former director of exhibitions at the Palais des Beaux-Arts de Charleroi from 1983 to 2002. Author of numerous publications, including the first monograph devoted to Giuseppe Penone.
