This exhibition is really a story that takes place in space and in time.
My childhood was interested in the landscape, in the garden, in the plant,
and that all my artistic production used this medium to express itself.
I have always used things that were very personal, very sensitive,
which were things of the daily life of my territory.
My garden provides me with the main material in my research.
The garden is really my workshop.
It is the one that provides me with everything I need in terms of my material, my materials,
my small work, because I often do vegetable work for myself.
A garden asks for care, asks for attention,
to get as much coherence and material as possible in what I want to use later.
A lot of tracks were offered by my garden.
At the same time, what I needed in my plastic work,
I put it in place in the garden so that the colors I needed,
the elements I needed were offered and that I needed to plant them.
So there was this play of Vaivian between what he offered me and what I asked him.
It is also a way of leaving the three concepts that interest me the most,
namely time, memory and space.
I thought that the best way to talk about it was to use the vegetable.
Can I have some傳統 뱉?
Or do you use the bone and rice to bring something to eat?
Can you have a bite or more since it has to be so delicious?
First, sources of importance are for me.
I'm in charge of the flowers from great grandparents in order to receive them.
and a great-grandparents, and Kiwi liannes, who during the whole season
did their part-time job.
I worked for the first time with Du Vivant,
and so I talked about time,
and the spectator understood perfectly
that I was talking about time,
because the leaves were dried
during the exposure time.
It was a way of taking the time
to grow, and not by symbols.
I had to be careful
to the bourgeoisie
who was doing the embroidery work
for me in some way.
It was one of the very important tracks
in this work,
because I had a more classical way
of painting, of drawing,
and the day when I decided
that it was this reference
to the living
that I wanted to use,
it opened up to me
great perspectives.
I was able to wait
very, very long
to formalize a project
from a discovery that I had
for example, the work on the wall.
I made large bricks of vegetable compression,
because the wall had just fallen
and I wanted to make them a poetic wall,
a flower wall,
very light things.
These bricks allowed me to
then do a work on the gardens of the French
in relation to this format,
in relation to the places that had invited me.
It is the Museum of Decorative Arts in Budapest.
I put three or four years before
the arrival
to determine the way
that I was going to work,
and then I put it in a work,
it took me a long time
to learn,
to determine if what I discovered
could be present,
and then it is a whole series
that is put into work.
I make a installation of 365 bricks of vegetable
that will be in the format,
photocopied cardboard.
So there is a lot of work
because of the collection
of what is offered to me by the garden,
because I am obliged
to determine
the bushes that interest me,
the leaves that interest me,
to see also
how the drying
the effect is carried out
at the end,
because such a plant
at such a season
will offer me something completely different
from if I put
it in a box,
but in another season.
When I worked on the bricks
of vegetable,
there was a lot of damage,
there were a lot of moisissures
that arrived, everything did not dry
according to my wishes.
My workshop in Varron,
in case of all moisitions,
we could not do anything,
and so I used that
to work on the moisissures.
So I worked with petals of flowers,
tomatoes,
really I tried to explore everything that was
at my doorstep again,
and the outfit surprised me,
that is to say that I did not put anything,
that is something that is also a constant
in my work, that is to say that I do not
put artifice.
The bricks of vegetable are as they are,
there is no conservator,
there is no liang, there is no vitrificator,
the moisissures I did not touch,
I do not put anything
that is of the artifice,
that is what I do.
The first time
where I used the petals,
the counter glue
that I then used
at the Archaeology Museum
of Feurs,
I was surprised to see
that the petal
remained wonderfully beautiful
and the color held very, very long
time.
The first time
where I used the petals,
the counter glue
and the color held very, very long
time. I did not expect
that at all.
I did exhibitions with, for example,
at the ground, a huge bunch of flowers
that were deployed,
that dried during the exposure time.
In relation to the petal
and to the color
offered by the vegetables in the papers,
so there, by crushing them properly,
I decided to
use the flower glue
to explore
these colors.
I explored for
a decade
the colors that will hold,
that will not hold
if it is worked on wet
paper, on dry paper,
nuances, differences.
So there is a real work
of recharging,
of recharging,
of recharging,
of recharging,
of recharging,
of recharging,
so there is a real work
of method research.
In the method of work
that I have, of exploration,
of experimentation,
then of formalization,
of analysis, of placement of the process
and of concretization,
I am also very close
to science.
I have a great
nuances of colors
and I have formalized them
in a project I did at Kyoto
by forming a sort of
great book of knowledge of my garden.
I have worked a lot with
garden professionals,
with great landscape artists
and botanists because
there too,
even if I am not
professional in it,
I know a lot of things
but it is always spontaneous.
Second exhibition in a
very important place
of Budapest,
it is an old church,
Baroque,
which had been destroyed during the war
and so all the baroque scenery
was lost, but there was the
amplitude of architecture.
The exhibition itself is very
very important,
also because of its historical coherence,
which it developed.
I worked on the horizontal
and vertical relationship
with sails
that went up to 10 meters high
and which were
worked with vegetal broyages
creating some kind of poetic
vitro
while there was no more vitrail
in the church.
And then
plates on the ground
which were
piled with vegetable,
sand, sand
with liquid beeswax.
So these are some kind of
large plates
which are not mortuary plates,
but real lacs
of the vegetal.
A series
of photos
in a 60 cm
or 20 m
linear
was found
at the height of God
and the limit between
the roots and the plant
was really calculated
to be at the height of God to me.
Everything was done
to play on the uncertainty
of knowing where we were
if we were below, above,
the plates were in slight suspension
everything worked like that
so
my parents were a little surprised
of what I was doing in plastic
it was not necessarily
what they considered as
de-large
so they took the time to understand
that it was really very serious
and the first pavo shells
I had picked up
a lot of photos
and she told me
I have something for you
that makes me think of what you had worked on
and so she gave me
the secret of love
the secret of love
I called it the secret of love
and so it was much more
than just this look
and she accompanied me
so it was something that
made me think of this exhibition
secret of love
but not love in cash
or Fisalis or Alquécanges
the forms of grains
Alquécanges
pavo grains
all these grains
gave me
the impression of being architecture
and enlarged
in architectural elements
music
music
music
music
This transparent container allows me to see both what's inside and what's outside.
I have the vision of what's inside.
I served myself as a revelator of how well the landscape can reflect on the glass
that inside, again, it's a reasoning where I have the plant, the roots, and the precise limit between the roots and the plant.
So I was able to see physically the real limit between the top and the bottom.
Photos were the only way for me to formalize these roots,
because some of them were damaged in 5-10 minutes.
So I had only the time to get them out of the tanks, to take pictures, to preserve these roots and this image.
For me, it was a maternity.
I was looking at a gestation, a growth on something that was of the order of maternity.
I can't talk about it, but I would say that the trigger of my plastic work was also the fact that I had my children
and that I had this relationship with life and death.
We never had the same relationship with death as when we gave our lives.
Two and a half years ago, we moved into my home in Nathal,
which for me was an extremely important home, on the emotional level, on the memory level,
by the trees that are in this house.
There was, in particular, a cedar trunk, which was my playground when I was a child.
This cedar, followed by the fire of the house, had to have been tainted so that the root of the reconstruction would pass.
It was dead, and my parents cut it to about 1.5 meters.
For 25 years, the rain, the wind, we had more and more limited the estuary of these years of the tree.
I worked on the time, I was really scotched by the beauty of this room,
which also spoke to me about the time, which also retraced the story of this house and the people who had been there.
It's always the same thing,
I only worked with elements that come from the garden, from the cedar, from the sand, from the coal, from the petals of flowers.
And it surprises me every time. Every time, it's different.
It's both a physical and very sensual job.
I really wanted to give him a tribute for this work of printing that I did with him,
and that I was able to position on this wall, this wall in the room where the incendiary part of the house was destroyed 25 years ago.
So all of this is a very precise relationship to good history.
12 years of exploration with two pommiers.
So there was a gap between these two pommiers, these two gardens, these two spaces and these two workshops somewhere.
It was also the symbol of my life, we were a lot between one place and another.
12 years of work where at the beginning there was the pommier with green apples to see around, who had made a very large production of apples and that I was looking intensely.
So this look led me to go suspended with the media films and to take pictures very systematically every 15 days,
to see how they were going to behave in time.
Two years later I did the same thing with the red pommier of Bours Saint-Bernard, that I didn't look at the price tag and that I only looked at it because I had done the work of green apples.
The installation itself was suspended and observed the moments of drying, deforestation, how much time it took and still pictures that were planned to be identical to the same scale as the real apples.
After this exploration of these pictures for a year, both of them had a completely different drying and drying behavior and I tried to go further.
And so I started to pick them up and to install them on the ground.
So to install them on the ground in a very, very regular, very systematic way, there were five or six hundred.
And from there I wanted to restart this work of simply looking at the way they behaved.
I decided to no longer look at the meadows, but on the contrary, to take out all the apples that were no longer of good quality and little by little to reduce the placement on the ground.
After a year of manipulation, like that, of attention, I had a small square, a very yellow apple, since there the green passed through a wall.
And this little square, I simply passed it to the press, to the press of relief that I have next to it, on engraving papers.
And these apples gave me another surprise, it is that they fell into the paper in the shape of flowers.
I also continued to work with the red apples, so the first of Boursain Bernard.
I also re-installed the ground.
And then, all those who got hurt, I decided to use the edge of the blade, sometimes varnished to the front and then the edge of the blade.
The new graphic impact, the apples fell apart differently.
Some were emptied and I had only the skin left.
In the meantime, I had an accident with my hand, quite serious, which prevented me from being able to continue this work.
And my father gave me a palm peel, since I could not use my right hand.
The palm peel gave me this kind of extraordinary ribbon.
I was seduced right away and I decided to do something about it.
The tissue, the thread, to see how it behaves, to see how it dries,
what behavior it has in its fragility.
And this work with the thread of the palm peel led me both to make some kind of dentals of palm peel,
but also to build a rind of palm peel.
The thread is what connects, it is what brings us closer,
it is also something very important to me.
What was very interesting was that I had all these small tronions,
which were given by the machine, which, by drying, took very random forms of little good men.
One went to the boardwalk, the other to the natural,
and in the same way, positioned, once dry, in a very systematic way,
to make a whole installation of small tronions.
There is always this game between what is destroyed, compared to our idea of what is destroyed,
and to rebuild something else, to rebuild, to rebuild.
Nothing is lost, nothing is created, everything is transformed.
That's what I do, but at my level.
That's what I do, but at my level.
That's what I do, but at my level.
That's what I do, but at my level.
That's what I do, but at my level.
What was interesting to me in this photo was by painting,
to make a colorization that trained me both to have red apples, yellow apples, green apples,
and to transcend time, to deploy it differently.
I use the photo a lot in my work,
because there are a lot of things that are very fragile, very perishable,
and that make sense only because the photo is there and there is a trace of what has existed.
This attentive look of the painter, of the artist,
it's never just apples, it's not the apples of Cézanne in the compotier,
but it's the same process of look.
There is always this relationship between extreme fragility and the duration of things.
I have always been really suffocated to see that these extremely fragile things that I use,
the petals, the skin of the apples, the things of this type, the roots,
lasted incredibly and wonderfully.
It's vegetable bricks.
I never would have thought that it could last.
And I don't know, maybe it's the fragile that lasts the most.
And the work of the artist is that too.
It's to keep on surprising.
And then it's to the spectator to do his work.
The work is also done by the spectator.
The work of the artist is done by the spectator.
The work of the artist is done by the spectator.
Thank you.
