Fenêtre sur rue

All memories are faithful to us, in principle. We become attached to a place, a person, an object, or even a futile detail. We vaguely remember certain things, just as we can remember the most precise details of an object, a decor, a feeling. Our thoughts can be deformed over time, we eventually do not distinguish the true from the false and convince ourselves of one thing when it is another, to make fictitious a part of the memory.

I seek to exteriorize untranslatable and fragile moments, a little blurry. I enjoy capturing the soul of everyday moments, transcribing the emotion facing the banalities of ordinary life, and accepting their simplicity. My works are therefore the testimony of various sensations that are anchored in my mind, whether they are duped by time or not.

I was interested in forgotten places, these sites filled with stories, to which no one pays attention, these figureless places, endowed with diffuse and intimate lights, capable of reminding us of an anecdote. We have the means to imagine a past, a fictional history in a few seconds. Different stories for each place, different emotions at each moment. We advance afterwards in the fiction that we create for ourselves and we thus seize unreal moments.

According to Alberti, the painting would be like an open window. Where is then, if only it exists, the limit between reality and imagination? Can we juggle with the visible and the invisible produced by natural light? Unconsciously, we are generally able to build a mental image hidden behind the openings of these interior landscapes, until perhaps feeling the desire to penetrate them, as if a new world was taking shape behind the support. Here I choose to use the window to reveal several contradictory propositions; the intimate and the public, the perceptible and the imperceptible.