Half-buried, half-hidden, the woman who appears in the joint work by France Dubois and Tamar Kasparian challenges and overturns expectations. The artists have invented a new language for this exhibition, a poetic hybrid, composing images in which photography and drawing blend together to model an entirely new material, both mineral and vegetable. We can almost hear the sound of the leaves rustling on the ground, the rock splitting, the bark cracking – nature becomes a protective envelope, offering the half-glimpsed woman a cocoon in which to grow, slough off her skin, scream, suffer or be reborn.

The superimposition of photographic paper and washi, a traditional Japanese paper, offers up to the viewer's gaze whatever chance reveals. While the line and eye of France and Tamar guide the outline of the face and body, the woman sleeping beneath comes to life by herself, and her power is intact despite the blows and streaks. She immerses herself only in order to regenerate, and beneath the chrysalis woven by the two artists she reveals the extent of her richness and complexity.

The reunion of the two creative acts, drawing and photography, forms a striking pas de deux, a wild and ancient choreography for us to plunge into. But make no mistake – the woman whose presence we discern, fragmented, will retain her mystery, revealing herself only when necessary. Between modesty and raw flesh, the works recall sketches in anatomical manuals: layer after layer, the body reveals its multiple strata. We observe all the successive layers of life, like indiscreet voyeurs, not knowing whether the woman revealed is alive or just asleep. She keeps her vital spirit for herself, shared with the sensitivity of France Dubois and Tamar Kasparian, who offer us a mystical immersion in the strangeness of our existence.