Morel's bronzes, with their "cheerful fissures" and a fibrous plant-like patchwork, travel through feminine geography, as if an overly eager underground sap has cracked the tissues.
The body's vulnerability, the ridiculous distance between the body and death. Earth, raw matter. Thanks to the magical vagaries of well-managed firing, the colours are sulfur yellow, honey ochre, anthracite, frost white, iron red... A wonderfully veined biscuit, free of enamel.