In the Mother’s Arms

Artist Statement

One son died. The other...

A few weeks later, the mother gives birth to a new one and sings him a lullaby to stop him screaming.

The mother looks at her child as a body. Inanimate, motionless, without a mouth, maybe with its chin already gartered, as they garter the dead in the coffin. We do not need to see the child, we can only imagine ourselves in its place or that of its mother. The deadness of a child who will be turned into nothing. We can say that by chanting this lullaby, the mother is already swaying the coffin. It is swaying because she did not come up with the lyrics of this lullaby herself.

Concept of Work

Near a bassinet, a woman's voice is heard. She is singing a lullaby in Russian. In a soft voice, she hums the clauses of an arms contract between Burma and Russia.

Putin's regime and the Burmese military junta kill their political opponents, send them to war, to prison or into exile, indoctrinate their people from birth, subvert the law and common sense.

Russia sold arms to Burma, which used them to suppress pro-democracy demonstrations, then Putin started a war in Ukraine and bought back the same weapons. This ‘song’ seems to go on forever, and only a newborn baby can remain deaf to it.

The text of the lullaby is based on an arms supply contract between Russia and Burma.

Lullaby text in English

Russia supplies Myanmar with gear,

To keep its regime in control and clear:

MiG-29s and Su-30s in flight,

Cut through the clouds, a menacing sight.

Mi-24s and Mi-35s soar,

Helicopters made for the ground war.

Pantsir-S1 guards land and sky,

Stops drones and missiles flying by.

The S-400 stands tall and proud,

To hide the land beneath its shroud.

BTRs roll — 80 and 82,

In battle and patrols they push through.

The T-90 tank, with armor tight,

Its cannons roar with brutal might.

Grad and Uragan — a fiery rain,

Destroying all that dares remain.

The Kornet strikes with deadly aim,

Anti-tank fire feeds the flame.

AKs and sniper guns in hand,

Bring deadly force across the land.

Ammo and mines are on the way,

Death on the field will have its say.

The world condemns, imposes blame,

But Russia fuels the war all the same.

Such is the world — a cruel stage,

Where politics and wars engage.

Myanmar and Russia hold their line,

Though global threats around them twine.

T-90 warms the field below,

Its mighty power makes ground glow.

With hardened shell and thunderous fire,

It brings the fear that foes require.

Grad and Uragan strike from afar,

Breaking the ground like falling star.

Kornet awaits — the war’s not done,

Russia’s force in Myanmar runs.

AKs and guns in soldiers’ hold,

Snipers shoot from ranges bold.

Mines and shells in stock remain,

Machines of war still ride the plain.

The West cries out — with sanctions loud,

But Russia stands, unbowed and proud.

Ties with Myanmar do not bend,

The weapons flow — and won’t soon end.