Sophie : Fourteen days ago, the man I love left me.; I had been given a grant to study in New York. I was at home there and preferred to go to a country that didn't attract me. That way the journey would have more impact on my life. Having given the matter some thought, I chose Japan. I was to regret it: masochism has its limits, three months is a long time. In order to make the stay shorter, I took the train. That still left two months. I thought about him, only him, all the time. Would he wait? He had warned me he wasn't the kind of man to let himself be abandoned for so long without reacting. No one had ever done that to him before. Perhaps that's why I wanted to try my luck. And then there was that reunion in New Delhi at the end of my journey. His idea. He chose the date of January 24. That day, I waited for him in vain. At the airport, I was given this message: "M. can't join you in Delhi due accident in Paris and stay in hospital. Contact Bob." I took the room he reserved for us at the Imperial Hotel. It took ten hours to reach Bob, my father. He didn't know anything. He seemed furious to be used like that. I dialed M's number and he picked up the phone. He had indeed been in hospital. For an infected finger. And he added, "I wanted to come and explain a few things to you." I replied: "Have you met another woman?" "Yes." I spent the rest of the night staring at the telephone. A red telephone. I do believe I have never suffered as badly as on that January 25, 1985. At two in the morning. Room 261. Unknown : It happened in Africa, in the bush. At the beginning of January 1980. I was banging my head against a wall, shouting 'I'll kill you, Budin, I'll kill you!' Budin was my dentist, and he had promised me the treatment would work out. Nothing out of the ordinary as suffering goes, but at least it was tangible. Other things you don't talk about.
About The Gallery
Founded in Paris in 1990 by Emmanuel Perrotin, then 21 years old, the gallery has become one of the most