Everything that is alive secretes violence and is part of violence. Delving into the depths or latencies of his own roots, the artist spends his life trying to scrutinize them, to accommodate the reminiscent sufferings and tears of the fabric of his life, to maintain sensory pleasures, to recognize the strengths of each other, to make it the main object of his visual explorations, to finally produce a work of memory and veracity, with almost nothing of bright colors that sometimes reach us in full heart. The artist does not have the ability to absorb his own wounds or to repair them. It is they who mark his soul forever. This is what makes him an authentic diviner of phenomena that no one could see without him. He needs the patience of a meticulous investigation and the impertinence of an imagination that transgresses the barriers between the sensitive and the intelligible to carry out this critical apprehension of human sufferings - often monstrous and cruel - who accidentally return to disturb our reason..
Place a bid