Even with an accidental model, as I was, I think what he wanted was to create a sort of fascination to prevent us from escaping. As if we were prisoners. He wanted us to be both his prisoners and his prey, but he also wanted us to oppose him with what we were. You had to remain yourself, not to appear to be a puppet, to be controlled. You had to keep your personality while abandoning yourself to his predation.
– One of Giacometti’s sitters, here
When we look at the sculptures of Giacometti, there is a vantage point where they are no longer subject to the fluctuations of appearance or to the movement of perspective. One sees them absolutely: no longer reduced, but withdrawn from reduction, irreducible, and, in space, masters of space through their power to substitute for space the unmalleable, lifeless profundity of the imaginary. This point, whence we see them irreducible, puts us at the vanishing point ourselves; it is the point at which here coincides with nowhere. To write is to find this point. No one writes who has not enabled language to maintain or provoke contact with this point.
– Blanchot, The Space of Literature (trans. A. Smock)