Precious few moments of Sophie Calle’s personal life have not passed beneath the implacable lens of her art. Her work tends to be profoundly autobiographical, and everything she narrates – with an analytical gaze never bereft of a pinch of irony and complacency – proves a way to share episodes which sooner or later we all experience, and to elaborate on them collectively for therapeutic purposes. Over the course of a career which began in the early 1980s, Calle has never glossed over even the most intimate and painful aspects, such as the death of her parents, the crisis of her relationship or the disappearance of her beloved cat Souris. [...]
