La Systématique du Pire (The Systematicity of Worse) is a solo exhibition by Julien Levy designed for acte2galerie in Paris.
La Systématique du Pire is an exhibition thought and carried out as a philosophical system. Each exhibition piece sets a cornerstone of the case statement and has been considered as a string of linked concepts. However, the mechanical system is solely there to underlie your sensation. Before, in front of and after the work.
La Systématique du Pire is an ode to fragility, despair and abandonment. It alights and awaits there, being both answer to the world and question to the soul. It is the work of a mind that has already left the building, in a way, and wanders about the soul, coming from the heart.

First and foremost, La Systématique du Pire puts forward an assessment. The assessment of a man who has completed building his world in which all is social, active, appearance, pretence, where all is tangled up with the Other and never gives away an immanent, floating, elusive thought, where that certain something is instantly swept aside by a decision, a rule or a dogma. A world in which recreation, literature, music, art and drama are dreaded with a same mental language. This is true uniformity, Madam. It isn’t a matter of everything and everyone appearing the same, it’s a matter of everything being perceived and felt in the same manner.
And barely felt, that is: emotions are analyzed before being experienced, bodies are obstacles, and sensitivities have been switched off. This is the era of posing and the blind. The power goes to those who make noise, are restless and burn out what was left. A world of uglinesses in which the act of the Beautiful is the first revolutionary one. The worse in this Systematicity of the Worse is the levelling of all things, absolutely every single little thing, just below the line of mediocrity. The culprit is not life – which may very well be meaningless, and yet remain so flavourful – but humanity.
Secondly, La Systématique du Pire spreads in a backward movement to that of the world. It becomes exhibition, scream and manifesto. It borrows emotions, feelings and traumas. It worships collapse, panick and terror. It tries to tie stomachs up in knots and to elate understanding at the same time. It seeks to fill the airwaves and saturate the high voltage cables. It seeks everything and it throws a loud tantrum. It reminds us that art is only Art in the counterculture of suffering. Then, it fades away and lets each work designate what is left and all that matters. Quite simply, it breathes.