Salty Air

Hello, friends!

How’s life treating you in these final days of July?

I’ve finally unpacked most of the boxes in my new studio, prepared a wall for work, and am diving into projects and paintings.

At the moment, I’m working on a large diptych where form and memory come together to create a painting inspired by the promenade of Saint-Malo.
Saint-Malo. 2020
This place in northern France has captured my attention more than once, and I’ve wanted to depict it in various states. You can return to the same subject for a lifetime if you perceive it in new ways. Each year, the place changes, just as I do—nuances of color, tone, and composition appear, formats shift, and so does my perspective.

Right now, it’s about soft sunlight and long shadows on the sand, transparent light, and charcoal lines. In the past, I wanted to assemble this scene from gouache washes, foam splashes, and delicate pastel strokes.
Saint-Malo. 2010
Last August, I had an exhibition in Brittany, which gave me the opportunity to revisit these places. While waiting for it to conclude, my group of students and the organizers from ArtFriendsClub spent two weeks painting the northern landscapes: rocky shores, rippling grasses, and stones of unusual shapes. Occasionally, we visited towns like Saint-Michel, Saint-Malo, and Tréguier. Everywhere in Brittany, you can feel the salt in the air and a restlessness in the sky.
I’ve noticed that in some places, I feel an overwhelming urge to paint constantly, sometimes even to the point of exhaustion, as my artistic eye can’t process the abundance of material fast enough. In other places, however, the scenes don’t evoke any emotion, and nothing hooks into my artistic perception. In Brittany, as soon as the weather turns bad—and it often does—I find myself liking almost everything.

Every new place demands a specific approach to composition and atmospheric space. What is so important happening in some places that compels me to rethink the usual composition and color choices?

Temperature, humidity, space, and the amount of visible sky—all of these factors influence perception, as well as the way I work with color and composition. These thoughts keep resurfacing over and over as I create my paintings.
On August 15, you’ll have the opportunity to join me in reflecting on one of the scenes from northern France during a new online workshop on Lectoroom. I’ll share more details in my next post.

Wishing everyone a productive week and a breath of summer air!

See also

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