Ryan Matthew Cohn and Jean Labourdette explore Wunderkammer in “Mors et Anima”

Your work is obviously influenced by the concept of Wunderkammer – the Curious Cabinet. Can each of you talk about your initial interest in such a topic and how it affects your interest in your work?

Ryan: I’ve had a great attraction to Wunderkammer since I was a kid. I grew up, surrounded by nature, and eventually I collected and then used early works of art. As a teenager, my interest in antiques began to blossom. These influences ended up being my main passion and eventually developed into the artwork I create today. I also collected a large collection of topic-related projects.

My collection ended up being synonymous with this topic. My home has become a Wunderkammer object masterpiece for my life. Each piece collaborates with each other to form a cohesive compilation.

let: Like Ryan, I have collected all kinds of things since I was a child…rocks, weird sticks, dead bats, anything that inspired my curiosity and miracle. One of my favorite places to visit as a kid was the Natural History Museum in Paris…I go to the flea market with my dad every weekend, which was a decisive factor in my life. I know all the merchants, it’s fun…I even bought a Kanlin (Tibetan bone trumpet) at the age of 6!

I was also fascinated by carnival vaudeville, when we were still in Paris at La Foire du Troône…I would be surprised to watch Fijian mermaids, two lambs on top, headless women or smallest men alive! In fact, usually more than these weird, weird promises, it is depicted in brightly colored painted banners, rather than the often disappointing reality behind curtains. To me, wunderkammers and sideshows are odes to human imagination.

At the age of twelve, I also entered the emerging graffiti scene in Paris (where I came from) and would collect the objects found in abandoned buildings, the better the better, and later I would paint and let myself be subjected to their patina, their decay, their decay, their souls, their souls and unsold stories, waiting to spread.

These fascinating ended up being merged together and evolved from the early 2000s into a moderate collection of strange and strange objects that I used as inspiration for painting, as well as using antiques and finding objects in my work.

Your work can also be a skirt or a direct reference to something horrible. Without shying away from grotesque, it also addresses the great beauty in the concepts of death and regeneration. Can each of you speak to this idea?

Ryan: My earliest memories seem to be related to death in one form or another. Whether it is the works I collect or the books I am attracted to, they tend to deal with death, anatomy, or memorial Mori. When I start traveling to Europe, I will visit some of the old cathedrals and places of worship. I will encounter the remains of the late saints. These complexes will possess the actual bones of the saints, and in some cases the actual skulls, although they are covered up by beautiful portraits and memorial jewelry. One of my best memories is that I ended up burning before I visited Notre Dame and I stared at the carvings that decorated the walls. Many of them are very weird. However, I noticed the tourists, for the great beauties around me, probably not the horror image of the people who were beheaded or tortured.

My earliest memories seem to be related to death in one form or another.

let: As I mentioned, during the graffiti years, I spent a lot of time exploring all kinds of abandoned urban spaces, from banning Paris to abandoned houses or factories. I’m really inspired by the decay and “ghosts” in these spaces and will create art on the spot based on these perceptions that are unique to each space…

Even though I was not a religious person, I became obsessed with religious art and churches when I was around 20 years old. I lived in Paris at the time and I could use this kind of thing very well, it was omnipresent. This affected my work.

To me, that’s having “Second Digrey” and it’s a sense of humor about the whole thing. There is no darkness, no light, and vice versa. Life without death. I like the idea of ​​dealing with these basic concepts with a grain of salt, almost somehow mocking the fear inherent in the human condition. I portray the tragedy of human existence in all its sad and wonderful glory. I question the concept of death as the ultimate irrevocable state of nothingness. I look for the line of my soul.

I think my art is a serious attempt to touch the “sacred” mysteries of life, but at the same time it is totally ungodly and idolatrous.