This is how I paint…
A blade of grass grows under the dew and interrupts a sleeping snail, a pebble throws the calm stroll of my shoe off course, a particular voice emerges from the crowd and lands on my glasses, the silence of the earth is scented by the rain, a naked glance questions a solitary ice floe…All these little things pigment my day to day living and trigger off, beneath my fingers and then within my whole body, the process of creation.
I am like a piece of blotting paper on which sensations are scattered. They are waiting for the ideal moment when they’ll meet the surface that will welcome them some day, maybe in a few years, without ever giving up… and that time will help me to organise them within myself so that I can be impregnated by them and savour them until I’m almost drunk, without any of the ill effects of intoxication.
It’s the emotion that chooses the support, sometimes canvas, a piece of wood, a stone or ice in Greenland …It’s a shy meeting between them in which I intervene indiscreetly to propose methods of fusion… paintbrush caresses, turpentine cloths and colours. And if the canvas and the emotion disagree, they let me know by throwing a muddy mixture at each other that can’t be rubbed out.
At this stage of elaboration, the painter I think I am is simply a negotiator who allows himself a little fantasy by throwing pigments, trying to impress the sentiments.
Exhibitions are an important part of this course of emotion that becomes meaningful only because of your presence as spectators and your active participation in the event. The stages that follow on from there are all yours.
This website can only give you a small idea …maybe because you wanted to have another look at a painting you already saw at an exhibition in order to relive that moment, or because you intend contacting me …through the “contact” page of the site, or during a visit to an exhibition, or to my workshop… it’s possible.
And it’s this meeting that matters, quite simply… and it’s what motivates my creative process.
Because these paintings try to touch your souls and move them by communicating new emotions, or reawakening older ones that you thought were engulfed.
Since 2009, Greenland has taken me like the hunters there “take” the seal from its “sea” having asked for its permission, or like the canvas takes the emotion from the painter that I am.
It nourishes me with inspiration and intense emotions that I couldn’t and wouldn’t want to separate from, and that I wish to share with you as much as you like.
I dedicate these paintings to Greenland, as it’s their incontestable author. I humbly thank it for its unique light and colours, for the surprises it gives me and for its beauty, even if its beauty is often harsh.
I pay tribute to the Inuits’ spontaneous laughter and authenticity. They have taught me the gravity of every moment, and the obligation to live it to the full in order to protect one’s soul.