EVE ❤ SPORT by Paul Ardenne

French artist Corinne Fhima refuses to embody the ordinary figure we all are in everyday life. She aims for something else, something higher: to be Superwoman, or Wonder Woman, quite simply, a superheroine with superpowers, the new, larger-than-life Eve. This mental transformation is reflected in her clothing: a blonde wig, boots or thigh-high heels, a bodysuit or shorts that reveal her thighs. Her resemblance to a cheerleader, a pom-pom girl, or a Las Vegas showgirl shouldn't fool you: this woman is "powerful."

She's a player, too, and it just so happens that she loves sports, especially competitive sports. It's a chance to get involved in what doesn't normally concern her: men's sports like American football and basketball. Eve leaps forward, grabs the ball, and outwits the men on the field. A true star, and always cheerful, smiling, and relaxed. For Eve Major, life is a game, a celebration—a celebration of the body, a celebration of the clever trick played on opponents who can't believe their eyes. They say that sport is the continuation of war by other means. Here, it's the triumph of optimism and joy. Pure, relaxing relaxation.

Not without a touch of irony, one senses. Corinne Fhima, as much as she plays the feigned ingénue, doesn't seize upon these human myths of omnipotence represented by superheroes for nothing. These figures serve, on the one hand, to signify human powerlessness, and on the other, to console us for it, to avenge us. Corinne Fhima's new Eve avenges the feminine and, more broadly, humanity for its shortcomings. Through her, we see more clearly who we could be, how we could finally become those "superior humans" that all civilizations have dreamed of, in an inveterate fantasy of Übermenschkeit, of Nietzschean superhumanity. Zarathustra remains an imaginary figure? Perhaps, but nothing prevents us from donning his robes.

No sports hero or heroine's brilliant career goes unrewarded by a plethora of merchandise: decorated balls, t-shirts, and trinkets of all kinds. The new Eve, a sports enthusiast, intends to pamper her fans, offering them a whole range of products celebrating her glory that are sure to please the aficionados. This collection of trophies "extends" the body of the magnificent sportswoman Eve, cementing and narrating her legend right into our locker rooms, living rooms, and bedrooms. How can we not be honored by this intimate connection with the heroine, how can we not rejoice in possessing these amulets that, through symbolic delegation, impart a little of her power? Relics of a vibrant, dynamic, and extraordinary body. Eve loves sports and is generous. She brightens our lives, offering us smiles and confidence—her rightful admirers.

The kitsch in which Corinne Fhima molds her images—skillful photomontages—and the fetish objects associated with them deliberately mimics that of popular aesthetics, full of color, simple and expansive forms, and strong visual impact. This demonstration of visuality also has a binding function. It magnetizes our gaze, captivates us through the retina, a good way to engage. With Corinne Fhima's Eve, nothing seems impossible, and that is precisely what we were hoping to hear, to identify with this singular heroine, seemingly sprung from a 1940s American comic, and to find fulfillment. Thank you to her, thank you to our new Mother Superior. She shows us the path to our idealized identity.

Paul Ardennes

French historian, art historian, exhibition curator and writer.