“Je me souviens”

Here we are, dear readers – and it almost feels impossible to write this! – but you are, indeed, reading my final blog post. There is something doubly nostalgic about this. Not only am I saying goodbye to a dear project, but also to 2025, which the end is fast approaching now. But I shall not see the glass as half empty : rather, may I see this “end” as, perhaps, the beginning of a new kind of relationship with Nil – outside the framework of the project -, and the excitement of watching the book take shape over the coming months (I realize that I didn’t keep you updated on that part! Oh well…you’ll have to be patient and discover everything in the upcoming months! ;)) and not see it as the end of 2025 but the threshold of 2026, a year in which, on a personal level, I intend to devote myself fully to the advancement of my doctoral research.

Throughout the week, I found myself thinking about the form this final blog post should take. A series of acknowledgments? A farewell letter? A detailed synthesis of everything accomplished? A photo collage? Not quite… What I felt drawn to do this morning, sitting by the fire, snowlight reflecting into my living room, an Earl Grey latte in hand, was to indulge in a small exercise of remembrance. After all, is this not a natural gesture at the end of the year?

In Québec, our motto is “Je me souviens“, “I remember” in English. In Québec culture, our “Je me souviens” carries a strong symbolic and political weight; it calls for the act of remembering one’s past, whether personal or collective. Yet because it is deliberately vague and open-ended, it also has the power to not articulate a clear program, and thus allow Québecers, or any reader really, to appropriate it for themselves – and it is quite rare, in fact, to encounter an institutional statement written in the first person singular. And that is precisely what I wish to do with you today. I want to take inspiration from it and, through a series of “I remember” statements, sketch what will stay with me from this project. I return, then, to my photo roll and my handwritten notes to let memories resurface. This will be my Archivorum recap!

Je me souviens…the first time I read the project’s open call on Indeed. I read it several times, afraid I might have missed an important detail, something that would burst the bubble of excitement steadily growing inside me. In that listing, everything I was looking for seemed to converge, as if all my interests had been gathered into a single role. Supporting an artist? Producing and curating an archive? Writing a book? All with a high degree of curatorial freedom? The requirement to be based in Paris? A background in art history and or museology and or archival studies? This role was made for me. On October 19, 2023, driven by eagerness and above all to ensure applications were still open, I reached out to Archivorum via Instagram. I could see how responsive they were. What followed was a long series of interviews and, on November 14, 2023, I signed my contract with great enthusiasm.

Je me souviens…of course, my first meeting with Nil, which I recount in my second blog post. Nil Yalter welcomed me with such warmth that even now, a faint smile returns to my face whenever I think back on that moment.

Je me souviens…the deep sense of gratitude I still feel, even today, at the end of every call with Nil. A woman of sharp intellect, brilliant, and, I must admit, deeply impressive.

Je me souviens… seeing Nil’s Golden Lion for the first time in person, sitting in her living room. It was a bit…surreal! As surreal as being in the heart of the Central Pavillon with Topak Ev (1973) beside me.

Je me souviens…my time abroad. Geneva in January 2024, where we were welcomed by Mia with extraordinary generosity. The wines I tasted there were unforgettable. Then Como, in the summer of 2024, my second journey with Archivorum. Lake Como shimmered. I stayed in a modest Airbnb where I could hear a waterfall flowing just outside my bedroom window. I remember the artists of the CSAV, our conversations, and, I must confess, the delicious pizza we shared at the end of the day. The best of my life. Is that an exaggeration? In 2025 came Belgium. Brussels, gathered around a large table with the whole team at the Fine Arts Museum restaurant. Then Antwerp, at the contemporary art museum, where we met the remarkable CKV team.

Je me souviens… sipping a delicious cocktail with Stephen in Brooklyn in May 2024. I was in the city for a couple of days, I texted him, and we met again in real life (we might have seen each other in person only 2–3 times!). We had a wonderful conversation (I promise we didn’t just talk about work), and I knew I had made a new friend.

Je me souviens…the long hours spent building the inventory. A demanding process that, once completed, finally gave shape to the archive.

Je me souviens…the excitement I felt upon receiving the first recordings from Diana Quinby, which became part of the archive. Diana Quinby, whom I thank wholeheartedly for her collaboration and for the shared enthusiasm of returning to her archives on Nil Yalter.

Je me souviens…strolling around the Marché Saint-Pierre with my mission in mind and the hand-sewn pouch made for Nil Yalter. A deeply personal moment for me.

I will stop here, if only because, as I write these lines, I am flooded with gratitude and a sense of awe. My heart is full, and I am eager to honor those who made this journey unforgettable. To Nil Yalter, thank you for your laughter, your trust, and your presence. Your entry into my life has left an indelible mark, and I will carry it with me always. To Rossana, thank you for your unwavering rigor, for believing in this project as much as we did, for your empathy toward our work, and for those small but meaningful pre-meeting conversations about the art world that stayed with me. To Arianna, who dove headfirst into this adventure alongside us. To Mia, Lorenzo, Giacomo, Davide, and the rest of the team, thank you for this extraordinary opportunity and for the unwavering trust you placed in me. To Stephen and Christianna, for being colleagues I could always count on. To Diana, Salman, the Galerist’s team, Eda and Chiara, I am deeply grateful for your collaboration, your generosity, and your trust. I know I am forgetting people. I know. But truly, to everyone whose path crossed mine during this project, you have left traces in my heart, and for that, I thank you from the very depths of it.

Anaïs xx