Drawings

Dreams is a symbolic drawing. Dreams manifest as symbolic sketches, gradually unveiling their mysteries over time. Like dreams reinterpreted, they slowly allow themselves to be deciphered. The hidden meanings within these drawings transport you to a corner of the universe where life and love intertwine in their purest form. Depicting faces is a means to question life and delve into philosophical inquiries about the essence of existence. It is akin to an Indian divinity, a complex vortex of intertwined dimensions, a matrix of graphic combinations where the gaze might suddenly uncover a hidden truth.

A crowd gathers within this intricate web, emerging one after another as if responding to a hidden agenda. The viewer is drawn beyond the initial impression of the sketch, beyond the obvious shapes, allowing their spirit to soar and find itself in places as distant as Africa or India. Bearing names, these figures introduce us to delightful demons and angels who play with shapes, distorting and restoring the main lines of perspective and its true meaning. Enjoy the journey!

Like dreams, these drawings represent the myriad facets of a singular continuum—a story, a forbidden tale yearning to be unveiled. The signal is transmitted; the connection is complete. I have chosen my path in life, which is to refrain from choosing. To respond rather than produce. Money holds no sway over me. If you excel in any human endeavor, chances are you will find wealth. I revel in this symbolic abundance, granted the status of one who can perpetually conceive new ideas and original principles, transforming problems into solutions. I conduct myself as a politician without the politics, aiming to solve global dilemmas and save the world, he said with a hint of jest.

Essentially, I am insatiably curious about everything and everyone, from kings to tramps, embracing both light and dark to depict all facets of reality in a spectrum of millions of colors.

I delight in reshaping volumes to align more closely with the viewer's perspective, which is why my pictures encompass many dimensions. As in life, reality is a multifaceted, diamond-shaped entity, shifting with the observer and the observed. There is a perception, a dialogue between visitor and actor, each welcoming the other's viewpoint. There is a salvaged sense of privacy and a resolve to act as an agent of change, defining that relationship and reaping benefits for the subjects involved. In these images, the hidden becomes apparent. The sense that reality, perceived in myriad ways, can unify within one's experience and clear conscience about the future.

L'Ane qui pleure — The Crying Donkey — is a sardonic drawing. It does not reveal its secret at first glance. Instead, it draws a line between those who fight and those who do not, between those who cry without understanding and those who know. Don't cry, Stupid... There's more to life than this... Come over and join us... Come as you are.

The first large black and white drawings emerged in 1990 during a trip to France, while spending a night at the home of a friend who was both a painter and a remarkable individual: David Miège. I had a dream of a hieratic elephant divinity. Compelled to capture it, I drew it first thing in the morning, and it bore a striking resemblance to "The Dreams" drawing I created much later. This was followed by a series of large black and white depictions of women, "Les Femmes Voilées," which were exhibited in Paris in 1997.

"Le Fou du Roi" — The King's Fool — initially began as a sculpture in 1992. While working on animation, I had the opportunity to create substitutes using white plasticine. At the time, I was in Avon, Bristol, England. I then replicated these sculptures, transforming them into black-and-white 3D sketches that evolved into either more complex or simpler forms, much like shapes crafted from plasticine. The drawings became volumetric sculptures. It's fascinating to create 3D volumes within a flat space, serving as a bridge to a more conceptual world where shapes morph into ideas. This drawing was designed to encapsulate figurative art, cubism, expressionism, and impressionism, culminating in a new genre that could mark the beginning of something entirely fresh. Many artists, particularly painters, have grappled with the notion that everything had been attempted after groundbreaking statements by artists like Malevich, Mondrian, or Alberts.

The sentiment was that the history of art had reached its zenith, an insurmountable expression, and thus, the history of art was complete. It was presumed to be finished, with nothing new expected from the future or even the present.

"Nothing New in the Painting Department" is a defiant cry against this notion. Progress is a perilous idea; it can put you at risk. Restarting history under this assumption was a responsibility. Yet, it was a glorious privilege to confront this challenge and discover solutions and possibilities, not just for myself but perhaps for others as well. This meant relishing my newly found freedom and paying little heed to critics, which was both a curse and a blessing.

The experience of openness and continuous interaction in the creative process led to the convergence of other fields, such as theater, cinema, radio animation, and live painting.

Within my collections, there are numerous other drawings titled "Le Fou du Roi." Interestingly, a radio program on French public radio now bears the same name. Is there a connection between the two, or is it merely a coincidence? My life is woven from such coincidences, layered with moments of real-time mutual recognition. Sometimes, these coincidences make sense. I have learned much and listened intently, often captivated by the experiences and insights of others. This has shaped my perspective, although I cherish the thrill of venturing into entirely new directions—exploring paths that have never been tried. The 360-degree scope of this approach has granted me extra freedom and, at times, the boldness and courage to face rejection for the unconventional choices I often make. Yet, I have never been alone. Every breath I've taken, every move I've made, has been under the watchful eyes of my peers. You don't have to speak;

I feel...