Stéphane Guiran is a blacksmith-sculptor who improvises in space. His attitude is frank and sincere (like every truly artistic attitude). His thinking is ingenuous, a little mystical – like that of a Mondrian or a Brancusi, for whom matter must be transformed into miracles. His art is of the order of the intimate. His world is made up of words that name things, thus granting them access to secret realities; raw material is then transfigured into abstract forms. The raw material is iron, which Guiran cuts up, thins down and turns into strips. His sculptures are like ribbons flung skyward by gymnasts. They look silky and light. Barely have they touched their oblong bases, flush with the floor, than they are freed up again in their equilibrium and movement. They are worked on in the most minute detail, with a certain touch that could be called "sensual". One notes the chisel marks, the swellings and, in brief, the convulsive intensity of the metal, but also the blonde tresses and the pleasing patina effect. These works are still quite small, but one can foresee them getting larger.
To Iron, the artist gives a soul, and to Space, a certain density. He talks about the "Awakening of Iron", and his desire to unite it to Air. He puts his money on his material: "'Les Fers en l'Air' is a strange story of a piece of matter (Iron) becoming conscious that another reality exists over and above itself. It has a feeling that this other reality can help it rise up, realise itself, become more subtle – in a word, better. It has christened this reality Air, with which it is trying to engage in a dialogue." And who knows – one day it may end up disappearing. Almost.

Ileana Cornea June 2004