“Casa” is many things: it is a physical and mental place, capable of communicating our way of living and our unconscious. It is a place of protection, a space of safety, of the deepest relationships, of intimate sharing, of moments of solitude and affection. A primary symbol of our imagination, the house is a container comparable to the female body: it stands for matrix, for maternal womb.

The house, understood as a private and intimate place, is the subject of many of Emanuel Licha’s works. Canadian by birth, French by adoption, but from a family of diverse origins, the artist investigates—through the theme of dwelling—the individual’s relationship with the deepest, most intimate part of the self, with one’s roots, with one’s cultural and biological origins.

For several years now, Licha has been frequenting the Balkans. Since then, the houses that appear in his work have lost all seductive quality, all sense of harmony; now made of recycled construction materials, they have become paradoxical, wounded objects, incapable of offering shelter. These are trap-houses that suddenly open up, leaving their inhabitant exposed and defenseless, only to close again, caging them inside. Like pistons, they explode upwards, as if to expel their tenants.

This is the case with Blow up, the installation created for the exhibition at Careof: a sort of square shelter without entrance or roof, this house made of metal sheets and other recycled materials is lined on the inside with a fabric featuring typical domestic wallpaper patterns. At times, a strong burst of air violently inflates the fabric, pushing it upward. “If there were any inhabitants left inside the house,” says Licha, “they would be irreparably expelled at that moment.” Thus, the work shifts from a state in which the house is habitable and still offers protection, to one in which it is uninhabitable and hostile.

In addition to Blow up, the artist is also exhibiting a video titled In and Out and several photographs from the Sans se retourner series.