Tracing the Red Thread: Stéphane Thidet on Reimagining Christie’s Façade

Unveiled during Paris Art Week 2025, “Le Fil Rouge”—a site-specific installation by Stéphane Thidet, known for his poetic, often minimalist interventions that respond sensitively to architecture, landscape, and the passage of time—marks the beginning of a months-long transformation of Christie’s façade at 9 Avenue Matignon, where it will remain on view until January 2026. Delicately “stitching” together memory, rhythm, and the building’s textile past, the installation draws inspiration from sewing patterns and from the story of the Callot Soeurs, the renowned early 20th-century Parisian fashion house run by four sisters celebrated for their exquisite lacework and couture innovations, who once worked in the same space. In this interview, Thidet reflects on the origins of the project, the personal echoes woven into it, and the subtle gesture of awakening the spirit of a place through a single red thread.

Stéphane Thidet–The project actually grew out of the meeting of two ideas—two pieces of information, two stories. The first came from the history of the building and Christie’s own history, which naturally evokes the idea of hands passing objects—artworks, design pieces—from one person to another. So the idea of a link, a line, even a “red line” in the sense of the French expression ligne rouge, became my starting point. Then, while researching the building’s past, I discovered that the Callot Sisters—fashion and textile designers—once worked there. That created the perfect connection. Recalling the building’s history through the gesture of sewing and stitching felt essential, and these two stories merged. That was the true beginning of the project.

ST–Yes, that’s right. I learned her story when I was young. To me it always felt like a pioneer’s journey—almost an adventure—because she came from a small village in the south of France. After World War II, she decided to build her life in Paris. Today it might seem simple to leave your hometown for a big city, but at that time images and information were scarce; it was a major life change. Her first job in Paris was sewing clothes. Her story naturally connected to this project, and I wanted to pay homage—not only to my grandmother, but to all those whose stories resemble hers.

ST–When I began imagining how to “stitch” the balconies, I needed to find the right drawing. I studied different sewing machines, because each creates its own specific pattern. I wanted something geometric to contrast with the round shapes of the balconies—something that would interrupt and recompose those lines. So I looked for strict, rhythmic, geometric patterns.
Eventually I found a pattern that worked with the building’s shape and the placement of the balconies. Even though the final pattern isn’t exactly the same, I played with it and made it my own. It also reminded me of sound frequencies—like a musical score—and even the rhythmic pulse traced by heart monitors. Being in the center of the city, with so much movement and energy, speaking about rhythm made sense.

ST–It’s true, I’m often invited to work in quiet places, spaces dedicated to art—but also in cities. In every case, I start by reflecting on the site where I’ll be working. I don’t want my work to be something I create independently and then simply place somewhere. The space is part of the work. My elements, my shapes, and the location must all work together.
I work naturally with raw, natural materials—maybe because I’m from the countryside. When I don’t know what to do, I grab a stone, a stick, or a piece of earth.

ST–I didn’t want to use stones or wood. I wanted something simple, light, precise—present but not loud. That was important for me.For me, it’s important that art doesn’t speak only about itself, but also reveals what’s already there. My intention was for people not only to encounter my project, but also to look at the building anew. That’s why I wanted something light, not something covering the façade, but something precise. I don’t expect a specific response from the audience—artists rarely seek a particular reaction. It’s more about breaking the routine of perception, allowing the building to subtly change and reveal a new version of itself.
I could have created a single, traditional sculpture, but in this neighbourhood people are constantly in motion—walking, driving past. I wanted the artwork to create a kind of path, something people can follow as they move. It draws a line.

ST–Yes—with CNES, the French Space Agency. I created an object that is now in orbit. It will stay there for a year, recording frequencies in space and writing a musical score from them. As I mentioned, rhythm is something I explore often—even when working with water, stone, sand. This project follows the same approach. When the object returns, I plan to collaborate with musicians to interpret the score. We’ll see what form the project takes. As for South Korea, I recently visited DAM — the Daegu Art Museum—for the first time, and I’m still developing the project. So for now, I don’t yet know what it will become.