In the course of the practices I encounter at Drawing Factory II, a shift occurs. The works do not present themselves in frontal relation to the world, its conflicts and its urgencies. They seem to distance themselves from the noise of the world - not in a form of indifference, but from another regime of attention. What emerges are formal investigations, economies of means, gestures that are sometimes discreet, others more agitated, but which for the most part refuse the injunction to produce an explicit discourse. This calm, far from being an absence, becomes a position, perhaps even a condition.

Refusal of saturation, of the spectacular, of immediacy. Instead, forms that don't attack, but hold, that open up zones of exchange at more or less low frequency. Certain more directly engaged practices don't contradict this state of affairs - they rather traverse it in a different way. They remind us that keeping our distance from the noise of the world doesn't mean extracting ourselves from it altogether, but rather inventing other ways of taking part in it, without renewing its regimes of violence or exhaustion.

Here, drawing is considered in its broadest sense - not as a category to be defined or discussed, but as a given, a starting line, a common coordinate. Whether it is central to the practices or not, whether it takes the form of a line, a film, a space or a gesture, it informs the works directly or indirectly, in an expanded sense that might be likened to that formulated by Rosalind Krauss with regard to sculpture.

This move echoes the very context of the residency. For six months, as part of their residency at the Drawing Factory, the artists shared a building at 61 rue de Richelieu. They worked there, but also lived together, shared common spaces and occupied multiple temporalities. Residency is not just a condition of production, but a way of being there, together. Experiences were diverse - sometimes solitary, sometimes porous - but awareness of the other, on the other side of the wall, persisted.

The exhibition extends this experience, with a partial move. The works now live in the Drawing Hotel for a period of three months, choosing their place: the lobby, the patio, the terrace, the bookshop, the café, the corridors, and the basement, which has regained its status, notably by hosting a fermentation room. A diary unfolds and is shared in the lobby. Gestures appear, some of them fleeting - a loaf of bread made and served at random, a room inhabited from time to time. These are all forms that shift usage and blur the threshold between public and private spaces.

This move does not produce a refuge. It opens up breathable conditions.