Date of birth : 1957
Category : Painting (56)
Average Price : $89.41 - $1,532.76
56 Artworks ($32,379.56) - View all artworks »
Artist's estimate : $638.65
"I do not paint to be free but because I am"
I was born in 1957 in Créteil (France). As long as I can recall, I've always drawn, painted, before my first rattle, I think it does.
My father passed on his passion. He intended to become a painter (this may explain it). WW2 decided otherwise and talent turned into a hobby.
The School of Plastic Arts of Choisy and workshops of Fine Arts in Paris allowed me to refine my technique.
To be honest, I saw my passion now, and I refined, I finally improves ... I hope.
Figurative painting or Abstract? : An unreasonable choice
Figurative painting or Abstract? : An unreasonable choice
The artist has always been marked by his time. It is a reflection of its time. He is the witness and his transformative character, sometimes a decisive component view. Revolutions economic, social, philosophical, ideological permanently transformed access to knowledge. At the origin of their efforts, a burst of spiritual sparked a movement of consciousness and mind. Gradually the artist wanted to report, transpose, show, describe as realistic as possible, his ideals, his testimony, his emotional reactions, emotional and intellectual. Relations and its sensory awakening, uniting man to society, have allowed him to express himself, to reveal himself. From time immemorial, artists have explored different ways.
All styles of painting, sculpture, architecture are gradually pushed to the extreme. Interpretations, individualistic approaches reject the shackles of pictorial and artistic expression. The boundary between the figurative and the abstract remains unclear. It is very convenient to define the objecting abstraction to figurative art. Like many artists, I refuse to oppose one another. I excluded belong to one or the other family.
Of figurative painting.
Figurative painting is a relatively simple concept at first. Based on the representation of reality, it has gradually taken a multitude of different forms throughout history. Artists have imagined countless aspects, giving rise to different forms. Narrative, realistic, refined, baroque, romantic, there is a wealth of styles in figurative art, not to mention the various movements such as Expressionism, Symbolism, Dadaism, Surrealism, etc.. ... All this is part of the art movement.
Figurative painting (or not) designs freely, regardless of the different skill levels and techniques used by the artist: oil, watercolor, pastel, acrylic, ink, gouache. It's his choice, his creation.
The artist chooses a pictorial composition or a dramatic subject. In a spirit of contradiction, it sometimes gives expressions for the characters, it puts feelings. The lines of force are not only horizontal or vertical but also oblique or curved, which has the effect of positioning the characters and give a sense of movement. This is the dramatization of the scene.
Sometimes it promotes deep colors, shades of light and dark intense. It evokes emotion, passion, peace, mystery. It characterizes the movement by using many bright colors, impetuous.
That of ancient statuary example, it defines contrasts, the play of light to highlight certain areas and leaving others in the dark. This is the use of clear obscure.
As for the landscape, it has a strong aesthetic dimension. It can refer to a set context, a vision at a given time. Strong contrast, monochrome colors or violent gestures or further dry constructions and combinations, and placed on the canvas, gives the work its animation, life-giving movement: a battle scene, hunting, and the movement of a storm.
Painting exceed authenticity through its naturalism. It does not matter a particular physical attribute, true to life, can be interpreted by a given symbol. There are virtually no limits on the visual possibilities of figurative painting.
That the painter used as model human or animal body, objects, places or describes genre, whether accurately or we refers to a performance of real or an imaginary world. It must create, must sublimate may be mythologized and not simply describe it. Otherwise, the work undertaken, resemble a substitute see plagiarism, it will be soulless. It is trouble-free and certainly, it will be cataloged as having "good taste."
Idealization and realism, the reference to the visible and material world the problem of imitation. The authenticity, the accuracy of the image or how to reproduce nature without betraying! The task is not simple. For some artists, it is ambiguous and for others it is more or less a sham. Then? Illusion, representation or interpretation?
By definition, the abstract does not "reproduce" nothing, this truism is misunderstood by custom or by appetite by education. Firstly, it is a research dealing with: the freedom to create. If the figurative invites you into a world of perception, abstraction invites you to a mental universe. Abstraction is a concept for many a confused notion. We must approach an abstract work with curiosity and an open mind to all interpretations, all philosophies, all opinions. This is an area of freedom, the public to walk without direction. Certainly, we can consider the abstract painting as a demarcation. This reduction is interesting. It varies, depending on the individual and felt the moment she navigates between several worlds: light, glare and the effects of changing the color, vibration they generate ... They prefer printing the phrase.
Of course, the part of the artist there is an intention, a wish or a message but still the perception of the work is always personal. If watching a sunset on a beach in Sardinia is perceived as beautiful by all the feelings that animates us is personal: peace, tranquility, beauty, fullness ... For the painter, is primarily undertaken for oneself, define its perception disclosing his vision of a fact, an image, an emotion, a felt. It's rise and speak, which is hardly noticeable but rational, which belongs to the realm of spirituality. Deconstruct space concede a function to the straight line and the curve segment color to give a role. Inevitably, we talk about operating and research. It sometimes appears, at first, to be the most important thing, but painting is, above all, creative.
The abstraction is more intellectual, more meditative, which is linked to mental dispositions of the public. Feelings, emotions watching the table they are those of the artist when creating? The artist want to convey his own feelings, his own emotions? Not necessarily, the public can find a canvas what he wants, beliefs can be easily imposed. If their composition and their use are accomplished, which becomes exciting when the work is sufficient to itself.
Commonplace in the world of art, abstraction became a style among others, a mode of expression which cooperates with the currents. This is an overflow, a search for beauty, excitement, enthusiasm, sometimes pain. But in no case should be taken as an abstraction or embellishment worst improvement. When artistic photography wants, artist force contrast, light, overexposed, blurs, it retouch the photo. Reinventing and manipulates the image. Everyone thinks that imaginative, ingenious, subtle, so why not abstract painting?
Paint can belong exclusively to one or the other style. Paint is to be free, independent and free from all boundaries, all certainties. Every painter, sculptor, artist, and define his world conception of his art.
I am much attracted by the figurative abstraction. Why should I choose?
Figurative art helps me express my opinions with references to materiality, I try to give a vision of reality. I choose to show, in a world sometimes imaginary evocations my, my commisérations my humanities?
With the abstract, I'm not trying to paint the outside world, but I reveals my quest and my requirements. I can spend my free model and reality. I like to represent shapes, lines and colors for themselves. This is no longer the subject dominates me, this is no longer an excuse for painting. It is the search for harmony, beauty, freed from all that gives meaning to the canvas. Painting became a pictorial permanent conquest. One thing is for sure. I paint!
I paint because I love to paint, I am free. that's all! To be honest, I saw my passion now, and I refined, over the water, I finally improves ... I hope.
Painting is the encounter between my mind (elusive) and my dexterity (abrupt to master). Think of nothing else, if it is at these moments of euphoria, brings creation. I want what captivates, seduces. Each of my paintings is an adventure, a journey. Each of my paintings is unique. Then came the meeting with the public in a dangerous dichotomy: the incense, the destructive misunderstanding or worse tasteless work! Even if the artist and the public relations can be terrible, criticism is essential, necessary. The creation has no importance if it raises this meeting, no matter when, no matter where. "Madam, this work is the fruit of my work"
In short, I paint because I love it. Just know that I've done my job.
I intend to lead you into my inner journeys, singular secrets.
"The great enemy of art is good taste." Marcel From field.
"A picture lives by the beholder" Pablo Picasso
"Art is meant to disturb." Georges Braque.
On the banks of the river, surrounded by hills and a red oak, stood an old house covered with ivy. A freshness Creek, walls rested from the heat. On the first floor, in a room where nothing filtered, Pelagie asleep. Her head rested on the pillow. His soft breathing measured over time. Only the psyche, on his right amounts mahogany mirrored landscapes unfathomable. Patient, she waited for the Belle wakes up, ready to send its reflection of gold. Window left open between past a gentle breeze.
Outside, the familiar landscape, a sort of wasteland, nature sanctuaries, was surrounded by nettles, brambles and ferns. The trees were caressed by the wind. the air had a pleasant sweetness. we
The sky became every day a little lower. This afternoon there, thunder rumbled. The weather was stormy. Heavy clouds were gathering.
Suddenly a roar sounded. In his room, Angela, snuggled in bed, pushed his blankets up to her face. She made an effort not to tremble. A dim light filtered through the curtains. Faustina joined, running, scared. For several months, they were promised to each other without daring. It is a lightning, slamming away, finally met. That afternoon, the storm had triumphed.
My heart is racing, no doubt I'm in love! I do not believe in chance to meet you was writing!.
You're in my heart, you're in my soul and in my dreams, you're in my arms. I am yours, body and soul. I am now chained, chained freely.
Love is a mystery. How can I express what I feel. What binds me to you is fabulous, magical. Really love you is to go to you, not for your image, but for that little something indefinable.
It is not "I take what you to fill what I lack," but "I love what you are and how you're trying to live." That thou art attracts me.
At your first glance, you've ignited. I opened my heart and me thou hast not rejected. But I could never hold you in my arms and kiss you. Your life is elsewhere.
Know that whatever you do, wherever you go, I will always be there, even if I am away. My thoughts always go to you. You have nothing to fear, I know where my place is, but my life is to love and to love is to suffer.
What luck, as a teen I have a heartache.
My dear, I think of you every day.
a thousand kisses
What a joy to think you tirelessly.
I thank the day I saw you for the first time. Since I have love flowing through my veins.
I know that love is a dead end. Regardless, despite this, I'm telling you, my thoughts and my dreams are for you, you are my sunshine, you are my beloved.
Each time, my love, when I write these letters that you will never, my tears flow, my body fails, wins my heart, my mind is troubled, I get elected as a far from light.
As many lovers I'm a little crazy, a little silly. But it is to you that my life is dedicated, I love you. You make my life happy. Me you fagots. You're so sweet. I have only one desire, stick me against you and taste your skin. I need to see your face I smile, hear your voice caressing, so exquisite, so reassuring.
But I agonize for this unrequited love. It scares me, I always wonder what you would do if you knew?
Can I continue? Love you and you write it? Can I continue without scaring you?
Would you have the courage, without commit yourself, tell me a word, a word, in accepting this beautiful intimacy.
Or, worse for me, pushing me in overwhelming for this obscenity!
I have in me the pain of not being loved. Such a patient, I wandered with paltry trips in vain imaginary pleasures me and finally weigh me astray. What should I do then my heart is torn? O Beautiful neighbor, you are both my and my only poison antidote, as long as I live and for eternity.
A thousand kisses on your lips all.
. Were two and had but one heart
BEATRICE 12/08/1958 - 12/07/2011 Montsouris Paris
Your gaze is fixed. Frozen blood overwhelms me. Life is leaving you.
For this July night, you're in driveway.
As you close your eyes, I looked for among the stars.
Now you'll always absent.
We have said enough how much we loved each other.
Your almond eyes, your smile, your body, your sweetness ... That time spent watching you.
You lit up my life.
How to thank you for this beautiful adventure?