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A remarkably poignant and tender portrait of a man she would never
meet.
*T Magazine*
The Address Book is never about one thing. One the one hand it is a
simple character study and straightforward conceptual art project
(task-based with a priori scheme, black-and-white documentation,
and text). On the other, it’s an unsettling confessional story with
deeply erotic subject matter. It unnerves readers by striking a
balance between submission and control, winding them through a maze
of seduction and pursuit only to leave them deprived of
fulfillment.
*LA Review of Books*
Given the ease with which we can access the lives of strangers in
2012, Calle's snooping might register as a quaint trespass from
another era, an analog and ultimately harmless kind of
proto-Facebooking. But her old-school sleuthing is daring, more so
than it was in her earlier projects, such as Suite venitienne, in
which Calle followed strangers, and La Filature, for which she
hired a detective to tail her. The Address Book's adventure is
riskier and more unpredictable.
*Bookforum*
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