Philippe HIQUILY Ralentie III – 1962 Wrought-iron mobile Signed and dated 95 × 55 cm Wrought-iron mobile; signed and dated 37.40 × 21.65 in. Provenance: Former collection of the Marquis de Ségur Private collection, Belgium Exhibitions: London, I.C.A., ‘Philippe Hiquily Sculpture’, solo exhibition, 2 May to 1 June 1963 Bibliography: ‘Philippe Hiquily – Catalogue Raisonné 1948–2011, Volume 1’, Loft Editions, Paris, 2012, reproduced in black and white under no. 154, p. 163 A certificate, payable by the purchaser, may be issued by the Hiquily Committee. “Everything is therefore perfectly balanced – unstable perhaps, but in any case… in a beautiful state of imbalance.” Alain Jouffroy Hiquily realised very quickly that to bring his sculpture to life, he had to break away from its rigid, museum-like demeanour. A memory comes to mind. Whilst serving in Indochina with the Leclerc Division, he saw a fountain in a village in Laos whose bamboo structure set the water in motion. This natural mechanism exuded its own magic. What would happen if he used metal elements? His first mobile was a ‘Fountain’ (1954). Then he discovered the art of Calder. He observed its lightness, its weightlessness, which allowed it to move through space, where it found its balance. Academic art was a thing of the past. From the very outset, he had a perfect command of techniques and owed much to his knowledge of motors and gear mechanisms to drive movement and place his human figures in a state of near weightlessness. Whilst Tinguely, for his part, employed complex mechanical and electrical systems, Hiquily, remaining faithful to the human figure, integrated it into a relationship with the machine whose origins can be traced back to the Surrealists and perhaps to Lautréamont, with a poetry of the improbable. In the 1960s, his aerial mobiles formed part of his experiments and happenings, designed to avoid the trap of repetition within a renewed, inventive and playful artistic practice. ‘To ward off the spirit of catastrophe’, proposed by Jean-Jacques Lebel and staged at the Daniel Cordier gallery with Erró, Malaval and Kudo (Masque de Happenings, 1962). Excerpt from a text by Lydia Harambourg published to mark the Hiquily exhibition, Artcurial, 11–30 September 2025 Hiquily quickly realised that to bring sculpture to life, it was necessary to break free from its static, museum-bound stance. A memory comes back to him: whilst serving in Indochina with the Leclerc Division, he witnessed a bamboo fountain in a Laotian village whose structure allowed water to flow through a natural mechanism, creating its own kind of magic. What might happen with metal elements? His first mobile sculpture was *Fountain* (1954). Soon afterwards, he discovered Calder’s work and observed its lightness and weightlessness – qualities that allowed it to move freely through space, in perfect balance. Academic art was a thing of the past. From the outset, Hiquily displayed remarkable technical mastery. His knowledge of engines and gears enabled him to impart movement and give his human figures the illusion of weightlessness. Whilst Tinguely relied on complex motorised and electrical combinations, Hiquily, ever faithful to the human form, fused it with machines – an approach rooted in the Surrealist tradition, perhaps even reminiscent of Lautréamont and his poetry of improbable encounters. In the 1960s, his aerial mobiles became an integral part of these experimental happenings, conceived as a way to avoid artistic repetition through renewed, playful creativity. One such event was “To Ward Off the Spirit of Catastrophe”, proposed by Jean-Jacques Lebel and staged at the Daniel Cordier Gallery with Erró, Malaval and Kudo (Happenings Mask, 1962). Excerpt from a text by Lydia Harambourg published to accompany the Hiquily exhibition at Artcurial, 11–30 September 2025 The authenticity of this work has been confirmed by the Hiquily Committee. Philippe HIQUILY