For more than forty years, my work has been guided by a simple yet inexhaustible question: how can instability become a source of balance?

I do not seek permanence. I seek the fleeting moment when opposing forces accept one another—when weight becomes lightness, tension becomes harmony, and fragility reveals unexpected strength.

My sculptures beside the monumental works are built without glue or welding. Gravity, tension, water, air, and the precise relationship between every element become the true structure of the work. Nothing is fixed forever. Every component depends on the others. Remove one, and the entire balance changes.

This state that I call: Unstable Stability has become the foundation of my artistic language. It is not only a physical condition but also a metaphor for life itself. Human existence is never static. 

We continuously negotiate with uncertainty, vulnerability, and change. Like my sculptures, we remain standing through invisible relationships and delicate interdependence.

The materials I use—stone, glass, steel, thread, mirrors, paper, water, light, and found objects—are chosen not for their symbolic value alone but for their capacity to enter into dialogue with one another. They challenge our expectations and invite us to perceive matter differently, beyond its apparent solidity or fragility.

Over time, my work has also come to reflect the fragile equilibrium that sustains human relationships and democratic societies. A democracy, like one of my sculptures, depends on the responsibility of each individual element. Its strength lies not in rigidity but in the dynamic balance created through mutual support, dialogue, and respect. When one element is weakened or removed, the equilibrium of the whole is put at risk.

Space is an essential material in my work. Emptiness is never empty; it shapes the sculpture as much as the objects themselves. The viewer's movement, perception, and presence complete the work, creating an experience that changes with every step, every angle, every moment.

My work is ultimately an invitation to slow down, to observe, and to experience the quiet tension that exists between certainty and doubt. It proposes that balance is not a destination but a continuous process, and that freedom emerges through our capacity to care for one another and for the delicate structures—physical, human, and democratic—that allow us to remain standing.  

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                                                                                                                                                                                                                 Brigitte NaHoN