Groupe Galactica

“If a lion could speak, we wouldn't be able to understand it”, said wittgenstein. we look at animals with the same curiosity, as if we'd lost each other's memory. a thin veil of incomprehension separates us and casts us into a deep melancholy. there they are, with their hair, feathers and scales, survivors from a fabulous world, mythical heroes of edifying stories and phantasmagorical material of our dreams. over the past two centuries, we have begun to study, classify and naturalize them, at the same time as their disappearance has begun. in museums, their remains have accumulated, the tangible form of our view of them and its history. what could be more natural? museums are the place for this. we observe the passing of time, that which precedes us and that which is yet to come.

Jean Sénac, born in Béni Saf in Algeria in 1926 and died in Algiers in 1973, is today considered one of the great French writers and poets and the only one of his reputation to have accompanied the Algerian revolution before November 1954. part of all the debates and got involved, very early and with immense enthusiasm, in a work of commitment which ended badly. His poetry, his sexual preferences and his political lyricism work against him: rejected as much by the Pieds Noirs as by the FLN activists then by the power in place in Algiers, Jean Sénac was assassinated in 1973 at his home in Algiers, in circumstances never clarified.