My pictorial work consists largely of delving my gaze into the intricacies of the infinitely small and the expanses of the infinitely large, in search of the essence that animates the world.
By reclaiming the pictorial techniques of the great masters of the Italian Renaissance whom I admire, such as Caravaggio and his particular chiaroscuro, Tiepolo and the atmospheric depth of the skies, or even da Vinci for his sfumatos and glazes that give life to flesh and depth to landscapes, I explore a pictorial language largely oriented towards abstraction. Ethereal skies, indefinite motifs, and blurred contours are at the heart of my research.
Guided by the British painters of the 18th and 19th centuries who sought to convey the impact of human activity on landscapes, I interrogate the contours of a history forever repeated; that of a dialogue where dawn and dusk merge in an apparently irrevocable dynamic, perfectly captured by American tonalists like Inness and Whistler whom I draw inspiration from.
Each painting is composed of overlapping layers (between 90 and 150) akin to geological strata one would uncover in a process executed in reverse. Each brushstroke is an act of remembrance, a dialogue with bygone eras shaping a narrative that would unveil the outlines of a trace, a mark, or the evidence of a forgotten event.
The long drying times required between each layer of paint have allowed me to explore the art of ceramics. The repeated artisanal gestures on clay and the chemical knowledge related to glaze work constitute another means of exploring this alchemical quest for what lies behind appearances. Thus, my sculptural and pictorial works merge, respond to each other, and nourish each other. This intersection of science, techniques, and the repetition of
gesture that I admire in the Renaissance artist Bernard Palissy represents, for me, the quintessential meditative act.