Sara Naim's Microscopic Memories

Entering through a large cast iron gate, I pass beneath a glade of trees with a pathway running through to a collection of white buildings. The air is immediately cooler, calmer. It is the Montmartre site of Paris’ Cité internationale des arts, an artist residency program that welcomes artists of different nationalities and methodologies to live and work in these quarters. Cosseted away from the bustle outside, the studios feel like sanctuaries, ironically more divine than the heaving site of worship next door. Sara greets me at her studio. She is calm and elegant, and speaks softly but precisely. We enter her workspace, a large white room with a high vaulted ceiling and windows that run the length of one wall. In the centre of the studio is a workbench, on top of which sit the beginnings of Sara’s next work: amorphous plexiglass forms that will become more of her hypnotic sculptural studies of physical sensations, boundary and being.