VERTIGO, at oblique gallery

At the entrance, a rope. It gives no indication of which way to go, yet it inevitably points toward certain horizons. A solid rope, perhaps that of a mountaineer. In the mountains, ropes come into play when the altitude becomes severe, when the terrain turns mineral and the rhythm must become collective above all. A rope is one of the ways humans respond to risk, when a single misstep could prove fatal.

Here, the rope has neither beginning nor end. It disappears to the left and to the right, leading us elsewhere. Its tension is palpable, though its source remains a mystery. We must move forward to understand.

To the left, through the doorway, a sequence of drawings covers the wall. Bold chalk lines on long sheets of paper — a record of time. These walls date back to the 17th century. Their history, like that of other houses along the Grand Rue, can be read in their architectural renovations. Today in concrete, these doorframes echo their 17th-century wooden counterparts, signs of a certain affluence at the time. Simon Deppierraz highlights this architectural citation in a series of drawings, layering another chapter onto the building’s story. Once separated from the exhibition, each work on paper becomes an almost abstract trace, recentring the gesture of the hand and body. Perhaps these traces — marked by both architect and artist — are a human response to the immaterial nature of existence.

Further on, a reflective plane tilted at 45° lowers the ceiling to eye level, sparing us from lifting our heads. The mirror reverses our perspective, opening onto a field of vision we might otherwise have missed. The cross, the doorway, the stones, the shaft of light — these elements give the space the atmosphere of a chapel, where the concrete and the spiritual intermingle. We are invited to pause, to look, to let ourselves be moved by fragments that once again remind us of the ceaseless shifting between epochs. Past, present, and future converge.

The rope remains, discreet yet central, as though embracing the building’s spine. At the end of the corridor the mystery is revealed: each end suspends a stone, held by a self-locking knot. This sculptural palindrome finds its balance opposite the basilica and the cliff visible through the glass door.

Heights, time, crosses, stones.

Are these houses — among them the Maisons Duc, home to Galerie Oblique — protected or endangered by the cliff behind them? Human architecture responds to the architecture of nature, positioning itself against the risks inherent to it. We return to the rope, meant to save us from falling. Here, it suspends stones cut directly from the cliff, holding them in precarious balance. In Saint-Maurice, this suspension becomes a dialogue between human and nature, a tightrope encounter where our breath is almost taken away.

Height and time confront us with our own vertigo. And if things seem to sway, perhaps that is only natural.

Curation: Eléonore Varone

Supported by the City of Lausanne and the Loterie Romande

Photos © Tonatiuh Ambrosetti

Simon Deppierraz

*1984, lives and works in Lausanne

Simon Deppierraz’s work is rooted in an interest in dualities, in the balance between opposing forces, and in structural systems. At the initial stage of creation, the underlying idea of his works often draws on the fields of physics or optical phenomena — gravity, the weight of bodies and their relation within space-time, or the frequencies generated by optical effects. From there, he develops pieces that take shape as prints, drawings, sculptures, or large-scale installations. Each work is conceived as a precise system, marked by a tension between static harmony and energetic force.

His works have been shown in numerous venues, including Switzerland, Germany, Belgium, the United Kingdom, Georgia, and Kyrgyzstan.

Sebastian Scheeman, Berlin