WRITINGS / PUBLICATIONS
publication
TONS OF
2026
DROP! collection
Publication accompanying the TONNES de exhibition .
excerpts, with a foreword by Olivier Peyricot:
Consumerism is a marginal research topic in the world of design. Designers selected by the market, of course, address it only in passing: recycled materials to greenwash the industry or a return to artisanal craftsmanship for wealthy consumers of limited-edition pieces—but above all, aesthetic shocks, cultural clashes, technological enthusiasm, and the latest trends, each louder than the last. Yet all material production overwhelms our living space on a daily basis, and the resources required for it are systematically extracted at the expense of living things. So what can be done?
DROP! invites visitors into its space to explore excerpts from the research processes undertaken by designers and artists who reject the narratives put forward by industrial capitalism and the modernity that accompanies it. The technical feat of using digital platforms to seamlessly deliver new products to private living rooms is a sad poem of commodities listed one after another.
article
NON-OPERATIONAL ON-BOARD
2025
STATES Magazine #3, Villa Albertine
About the research expedition conducted aboard the container ship Marius in February 2024 in the North Atlantic.
excerpts:
Personal belongings:
Laptop with accessories, cell phones with chargers, power bank, external hard drive, wedding ring, Bluetooth speaker, USB flash drive, headset, hair clipper, reading glasses, Bluetooth earbuds, Portable Electric Fan, Wristwatch, Souvenir Magnets and Figurines, Flashlight, Pack of Cigarettes, Lego Toys, Medicines, Perfume, Personal Effects, Chocolates, Rosary, Crucifix, Foot Massager, Alarm Clock, Bracelet, Vitamins, Cellphone Holder, Universal Adapter, Sunglasses, Hand Blender, Camel Ashtray, Pair of Shoes, Caps…
[…]
February 20, 2024, 3:02 p.m. – Rotterdam, 51°95.5 N / 03°93.3 E
A mega-container ship passes by, but it’s too close, and I can’t really gauge its … sheer size. I learned that it’s twice the length of the Marius but has ten times its capacity.
February 19, 2024, 11:09 a.m. – English Channel, 49°43.2 N / 03°78.1 W
In the messman’s storeroom, above the engine room, everything is shaking. New items clatter against one another—metal dishes, vacuum cleaners, fly swatters, soaps…
February 17, 2024, 11:51 a.m. (12:00) – North Atlantic, 53°17.6 N / 24°24.4 W
Every time he sets sail, he creates a cross for his cabin by collecting small items on board.
February 13, 2024, 8:31 a.m. – North Atlantic, 41°26.6 N / 56°07.1 W
It’s the fourth consecutive Christmas away from home. The garland, still up in February, is bursting at the seams.
maintenance
CORRESPONDANCE CYDRE <> MATHILDE PELLÉ
2022
Azimuts Magazine #54, Cité du design Publishing
Publication of the correspondence exchanged between CyDRe (the graduate program at EsadSE led by Ernesto Oroza) and Mathilde Pellé during the “me Soustraire” residency.
extract:
CYDRE - The word subtraction seemed to us to be consistent with the issue of the environmental crisis and dwindling resources. We wanted to know if these questions are the motivation behind the action you've taken, or on the contrary, did they come up in the course of your experiment? If they did, how did this issue impact your research protocol?
M.P. – These questions, which I see primarily as realities, are triggers. It’s exactly as if, through my design practice, I had turned down a street that turned out to be a dead end; at the end of it are precisely these realities, which are like walls. I could have turned back, stopped designing, but I ultimately sought to view subtraction as a counterpoint to addition. In fact, I don’t really feel like I had a choice; I started looking at the cracks, so to speak. I find it very normal and sensible to want to question the models (forms, lifestyles, environments) that contemporary societies propose—they are, in reality, merely proposals, which we should be able to invalidate if we wish.
MAINTENANCE
Interview on subtraction with Mathilde Pellé
2021
Jean-Baptiste Farkas, Much More Less!
Riot Editions
Initiated by Jean-Baptiste Farkas, the collection BEAUCOUP PLUS DE MOINS ! explores subtractive approaches found in art and beyond. For Farkas, artistic practice must challenge the notions of the artist, the artwork, and the exhibition space.
The interview is available and can be downloaded for free from the Riot Éditions website.
> link to the Riot Éditions website
extract:
J.B.F. - You write that "subtraction as much as addition allows us to draw and develop answers". What about the proverb "LESS IS MORE"? Do you think you serve a purpose close to its meaning? Or does the Subtract research project pursue other objectives? If so, what are they?
M.P. - It's hard for me to say, and even if certain appetites are indeed similar: a form of systematic economy, a minimalist aesthetic, "LESS IS MORE" is stated as a truth and is also radically opposed to certain types of décor. I'm not opposed to the set, but I do seek to question it, to recognize its meaning, to admit its validity, as it were.
The question that underlies the Soustraire project, and that I've been asking tirelessly from the outset, is: "Why is there something rather than something less? I seek to question presences, but it's hard to decide: useful - not useful. Whether of our own free will or by force of circumstance, I'm convinced that, to face up to a general crisis, we're going to have to moderate our consumption, make subtractions, and therefore make a decision, so I can say "less has to be more", because I don't accept the idea that less material de facto produces less.
PUBLICATION
In-depth explorations of the materialities and visual representations of the Anthropocene
2021
A° Magazine
Lyon Urban School and Éditions deux-cent-cinq
A publication by Deep Design Lab showcasing the various projects supported by the research studio.
Maison Soustraire, stories of experiences and photographs.
extract:
On the gas stove, there's a third of the kettle, which is still used to heat water for tea and coffee. In shape, it could be a hollow stainless steel plate, between 20 and 25 centimetres in diameter and barely 5 cm deep. But in use, it remains a kettle only - and like the original kettle, it sits on the gas stove.
During the reduction process, the steel circle had to be cut several times to reach a third of the mass. I finally see it again on the scales in the workshop and hear myself thinking: "This isn't going to be very practical". I take a pair of pliers and try to form a spout, but it's tiny.
The third kettle (with its high plate potential) comes back into the apartment -and it's certainly because the saucepan that evening was dirty- that I used it to heat water.
I put the bowl at the bottom of the sink because I was sure I'd be pouring a lot of water next to it, I make sure that the oscillation of the water disk doesn't go beyond the metal circle, to get from the gas stove to the sink; I make sure that the disk gently meets the circle at the spout, and I pour a lot of water next to the bowl...". Yes, it's not practical".
Second close call, perhaps the saucepan was still dirty enough for me to accept that this was relevant, this time I pour a few dozen centilitres of water perfectly into a cup.
Since the saucepan has been reduced, I always heat the water in the "kettle" - I could almost say "on the kettle" as it's so shallow.
And I practice the practical step, which works better and better, I gain confidence, I no longer put the cup at the bottom of the sink, I burn my foot then I fill a few cups in a row to the right level without pouring anything next to it... Which once led me to look closely at the tiny spout thinking that Margaux, who assists me on the project, had slightly modified it which explained the success. But no, it's just my body learning skill in a project that didn't require it before.
WRITINGS
homemade letters: subtract
2020
Throughout the Maison Soustraire experience, Mathilde Pellé shared letters with the public to convey her impressions.
Excerpt from a letter dated November 2, 2020:
Among the first objects for which 2/3 of the material had to be removed, some continue to carry out their functions, some have disappeared because it was not materially possible to ensure their subsistence, or because what they enabled to be achieved here did not seem essential. Objects that have disappeared leave 1/3 of their material available for reconfiguration, to adapt the environment as closely as possible to my needs.
The "third-party reserve" contains fabric, spikes, an aluminium tube, metal parts, cable, copper wire, etc. - elements selected for a calculated potential.
The creation of new objects or systems helps to curb the material exhaustion here and to design an enriched space. The grey soap, which never dried and lost a lot of material while leaving traces on the sink, is now placed on a small wooden soap dish. The ashtray, which had been deliberately left out of the inventory of 112 objects, finally exists through a piece of wine glass. On the bookcase, next to the books, there's now a decorative object, a trinket, a curiosity.
It was envisaged to keep some of the food processor's electrical functions, but the weight distribution in its various parts did not allow this. Some plastic parts, little or not modified at all, became crockery parts, and the blades of the discs were kept to produce cutting utensils. A third of the weight was far from being reached, which enabled a harvest for the third reserve; most of the interesting elements were taken from the engine block. To recover the copper wire from the stator, the parts had to be disassembled. Rougher materials appear, there's grease, the parts marked by their operation are well hidden under the smooth, uniform hulls of the robot.
The last hurdle for accessing the wire is getting the shaft and rotor out of the way. I sense the elegance of the piece: the commutator is streaked with innumerable fine lines caused by the rotations, strands of copper wire criss-cross and form a kind of braid, their shiny russet vibrating well with the satin-finished, blood-red fins of the rotor. This is the curiosity, the trinket, the decorative object that now sits beside the books on the bookcase. Some of the material preserved from the robot has been chosen for a taste of form and for a meaning other than functionality.
While holding the part the other night, I looked closely at the small, flattened blue plastic balls pressed onto the strands of copper wire to secure them. Each one bears tiny parallel lines—negative fragments of fingerprints. The discreet and unsettling traces of a gesture by the person who worked in China to manufacture a robot used in Saint-Étienne.
extract:
The fulfillment of needs enables an organism, a species or a system to survive and grow - it is primarily in the fulfillment of needs that energy is used. The fulfillment of desires comes second, using the remaining energy available and allowing it to flow. Georges Bataille believes that if this energy is not used up, but stored, it reaches saturation point in certain areas, causing major distortions and leading to the worst possible form of unproductive expenditure: war.
His analysis leads me to formulate this hypothesis: decor is an unproductive expenditure, its primary meaning having been to dissipate excess energy. When basic needs are satisfied, and free time is devoted to ritualizing gestures and practices, decor can be summoned up as a ritual, allowing excess energy to flow. It's a form of free expression that leads both to aesthetic research and to the perfecting of gesture.
But ornament can also be used for commercial purposes, in which case it no longer necessarily depends on excess energy. Ornament serves a productive purpose, and is thus opposed to the first definition. Let's take the example of a decorative object made from straw. Traditionally, this type of peasant object was produced at the end of the harvest to celebrate a good crop, as an attempt to spend the surplus straw (this surplus exists after producers have considered future needs). Now imagine that this same object is the result of rationalized production, and that straw is grown to ensure its production. Here, decoration is no longer a way of spending surplus straw. In so doing, it unties the link between material and object. The object's production purpose justifies the obtaining of the raw material. The decoration calls on the material, whereas in the first situation it's the material and the excess time that call on the decoration and the object to flow.
WRITINGS
in everyday life, objects disappear
2017
10th Saint-Étienne International Biennial
As part of her project *Les objets disparaissent*, Mathilde Pellé has been writing daily notes that are shared on Rue de la République in Saint-Étienne to communicate with the Biennale’s audience.
note of april 1, 2017:
I myself removed the last chair.
There were three of us here last night. Two sitting on the floor, the third on the chair quickly tired of the difference in altitude - a question of posture perhaps, the gaze and upper body are directed downwards for the exchange, there's no longer a table to rest the arms on.
Later, the three of us sitting on the floor, the useless chair moved a little further away.
note of march 14, 2017:
The carpet enriched the space without having an essential function. My attachment to it was not visual but tactile; here, the grey tiles offer a cold contact, and I'm wearing mules even though I like to be barefoot. On the bangs of the carpet, I'd take off the mules and enjoy the firm contact of my soles on the weave, and when I was sitting down, I'd mechanically rub my feet over the fibers until they were warm.