‘Vendredi 11 août 1989’ consists of paragraph outtakes cut in vinyl letters. Originally stuck on the wall, they have later been removed, giving visitors the impression that they have entered the exhibition shortly after being dismounted, with its residues still lying on the floor. Except for a few clusters of words here and there, it is nearly impossible to make out their meaning, and their significance can only be conjectured. The text was written by the artist at the age of 14, and is highly characteristic of a guarded youth, with its dreams of love and peace. It is a form of statement, an engagement that could have come from just about any boy or girl of that age, riddled as it is with misspellings, swerves and inconsistencies. It is full of a naively idealist sentiment that is both endearing and pathetic to read. The text’s destruction marks a time elapsed, a page turned; that upon which one declares their intention to change the world. But it is also a time of greater innocence and reserve, where words still leave room for silence.

Latifa Echakhch’s works are part of many permanent collections, including Kunsthaus Zürich; Lacma, Los Angeles; National Museum of Canada; Macba, Barcelona; Nouveau Musee National de Monaco; Francois Pinault Collection, Paris/Venice; Kunstmuseum Liechtens; Queensland art gallery, Brisbane; Gamec, Bergamo.

Latifa Echakhch won the Marcel Duchamp Prize in 2013 and the Zurich Art Prize in 2015. She is representing Switzerland at the 59th Venice Biennale (2022).
Vendredi 11 août 1989 consists of eight paragraph outtakes cut in vinyl letters. Originally stuck on the wall, they have later been removed, giving visitors the impression that they have entered the exhibition shortly after being dismounted, with its residues still lying on the floor.
Except for a few clusters of words here and there, it is nearly impossible to make out their meaning, and their significance can only be conjectured.
The text was written by the artist at the age of 14, and is highly characteristic of a guarded youth, with its dreams of love and peace. It is a form of statement, an engagement that could have come from just about any boy or girl of that age, riddled as it is with misspellings, swerves and inconsistencies. It is full of a naively idealist sentiment that is both endearing and pathetic to read. The text’s destruction marks a time elapsed, a page turned; that upon which one declares their intention to change the world. But it is also a time of greater innocence and reserve, where words still leave room for silence.