If the exhibition - like the collection - is not underpinned by any theme that would project a particular reading direction onto the works, it intends rather to explore the very principle of collecting works, as so many diverse, contradictory elements experienced in daily life. These works of art, as disparate as they are, demonstrate once again that they naturally find their place in domestic spaces, impregnating any configuration with their presence. Therefore, beyond always wanting to rationalise the things that surround us to present them under the same roof, is it not in the juxtaposition and apprehension of differences that new synergies are created?

As I Run and Run, Happiness Comes Closer is the prologue to a collection that reinvents itself as one writes and rewrites a story, and thus raises the question of the exhibition of a work when it is offered to the gaze of another, in a relationship of proximity.

How can the work be reactivated from the moment it leaves the studio to become part of a collection? How can it be confronted with other works from other histories? How can it be given a voice without blurring its meaning in an essentially noisy collective environment? How can we recontextualise each of these works and articulate them together from original unpublished scores? These are all questions raised by any work, any collection, and which the exhibition aims to put into perspective. 

Thus, like the refrain of a rock song, the title, As I Run and Run, Happiness Comes Closer, refers to the idea of a utopian artistic journey, whether it be on the part of the artist, the collector or the curator. In this frantic race of the contemporary world, the exhibition can be read as a score calling for several voices, a multiplicity of echoes, a metaphor for any work of art, an open score.