ABSTRACT
In an art school or a studio it is always possible to tell which artist spends the most time working, because the paint gradually finds its way onto every surface and every possession. Francoise Gilot tells the story of visiting Alberto Giacometti’s atelier. He was working in clay, and his studio resembled his work: The wooden walls seemed impregnated with the color of clay, almost to the point of being made out of clay. The hermaphrodite is a queasy embodiment of what a twentieth-century reader has to call psychosis. The alchemists were fascinated by it, and also wary, because it did not fit well with the Christian frame that alchemy was supposed to fill. As Carl Jung noticed, the hermaphrodite is a concentrated image of the fear that plagued every alchemist who took note of his shaky relation to Christianity.
