Un projet artistique entre mes
photographies et la terre.
Dans le souffle du temps, où l'art jamais ne dort,
Il y a trente ans passés, j'ouvris ma voie, mon port.
Un diplôme en main, à Arles, ville lumière,
J'ai forgé un concept, loin de toute barrière.
La "néo-réplication", mot-valise ou dessein,
Un dialogue infini entre l'ancien et le plein.
Car l'œuvre du passé, loin d'être un vain miroir,
Est une invitation à un nouveau savoir.
L'héritage est respect, la liberté est guide,
Dans cette danse où l'art jamais ne se dévide.
Mon chemin de lumière, sur la terre d'Europe,
A vu mes photographies, sans que rien ne s'y trompe,
An artistic project between my photographs and the earth.
Taking shape on the sides of ancient vases, These sacred vessels, born of united hands. Discovered in Sicily, or in ancient Greece, Their curves receive a prophetic impetus. Once tales of gods, heroes, or festivals, They become the stage where my vision takes shape.
From clay they are fashioned, in the spirit of the past, So that the Greek heritage may be forever traced, But that the 21st century may deposit its soul there, A bridge between worlds, acclaimed by a new fire. My technique is a song, where the image is incorporated,
On the enamel and the clay, a relief to be explored. Nude photographs, of chosen models, For scenes of life, brought together by my art. The firing, a powerful act, freezes destiny there, The brilliance of the glazes or the matte finish of the path. An aesthetic, too, of fertile rupture,
When the tension of the world floods my works. The nude is my language, the essence of humanity, Where strength, grace, and disdain mingle. For the heroes of yesteryear are no longer giants,
But the everyday man, his struggles resonating. The firefighter, the caregiver, the local activist, Replace Heracles, the feat is accomplished. The modern "divinity," in contact with humanity, Reveals the ordinary, at the heart of our being. A masculinity that I thus reinvent,
Between fragility, tenderness, and whimsy. My art, the link between image and history, Respects contours, in search of memory.
No flat frame, no closed book, But the form that lives, beyond echoes.
The image takes shape in sacred roundness,
So that art may be liberated, in its pure clarity.
In the breath of time, where art never sleeps, thirty years ago, I opened my path, my harbor. Diploma in hand, in Arles, city of light, I forged a concept, far from all barriers. "Neo-replication," portmanteau word or design, an infinite dialogue between the old and the full. For the work of the past, far from being a vain mirror, is an invitation to new knowledge. Heritage is respect, freedom is the guide, in this dance where art never unravels. My path of light, on the land of Europe, has seen my photographs, without anything being mistaken,
