63 / 128
63
GEOFFROY COUTEAU
As he got to grips with the œuvre as a whole, the earth opened beneath his
feet . . . ‘This writing demands an energy that comes from very far away –
you’re playing with the elements here – and you learn how to avoid breaking
your arms when you use them with such energy . . .’ The gentle kamikaze
was now absolutely certain that the project was tailor-made for him.
As a child, Geoffroy Couteau intended to pursue a career as a gymnast – a
frustrated vocation that subsequentlymade him inseparable fromthe piano,
and from which he has perhaps retained a hint of nostalgia (that eminently
Brahmsian sentiment), and in any case a deeply ingrained appetite for risk.
To take hold of this gigantic œuvre, literally to incorporate it in oneself, is
indeed an athletic experience, in both emotional and physical terms – a
challenge in which the body is engaged in an energy where the artist, who
once set out to master somersaults, finds once again that paradoxical
tension between rootedness and weightlessness, strength and gentleness,
powerful impetus and graceful movement. And that grace is never restricted
to the beauty of the gesture alone, but is the grace that saves us by giving us
access to ourselves and therefore allowing us to grow in stature.