“Each time I stand in front of a canvas, flat, inert, blank surface, I try to infuse it with a piece of life revolving in an infinite space. My desire is not to dig into the depths of the background, but to open up the potential of the foreground, to allow my subjects to break free from the canvas. I sometimes use brushes, but prefer working barehanded. I sculpt my canvas. I need to be in direct contact. I conceive it in the round. In fact, when I paint, I am preparing to sculpt better.
While appreciating the gestural freedom and spontaneity of painting, I treasure the slow and precise minutia of sculpting. I sculpt in and surrounded by silence. I need a total connection to my work. All of my senses in full alert. Starting a sculpture is deciding to embark on a journey, with no prior knowledge of when and where it will end.
When I sculpt, I truly feel like I am drawing my subjects. I trace the line of a body unfurling itself; I sketch the curve of a hip, then the roundness of a breast. The thousands of sketches that I have done up till now, always in an effort to better understand the human anatomy, allow me to approach the subject without constraints. The proportions emerge naturally, so I can amuse myself by deconstructing them. I open up my bodies; I arch them beyond natural limits. In the same breath, I firmly anchor their now fragilised figures.
No matter what medium I explore, the central theme remains the same: I speak of interior peace. Fulfilment. Whether through painting or sculpture, I endeavor to transcend the mere representation of a subject to touch the interiority, the spirit. I instill into my subjects is my way of denouncing the demanding world in which we live, a world that encourages performance at any cost, rampant consumerism, pollution, stress, and the over-exposure of violence and human stupidity in the media. I offer a pause. My artistic work can be considered as a celebration of slowness, of the sweetness of life, of the simple pleasure of being here, alive, of existing.”