Can you describe your technical process?
The first phase of my process involves seeking out the perfect glaze, that elusive blend of color and texture for my eventual ceramics. This stage requires precision and methodical work to ensure consistency in the glaze's reproduction. I conduct hundreds of tests on small shards modeled from the selected clay(s). Concentrations of minerals and plant ashes are gradually adjusted across these trials, as if plotting a theoretical map where the magic of glaze fusion occurs.
Regarding the shape, I hand-mold the pieces, using very few tools, because the irreplaceable sensation of direct contact with the clay is paramount to me. I prefer iron-rich stoneware, which contributes to the color, or on the contrary, porcelain, whose whiteness maintains the integrity of the glaze. Stoneware and porcelain are very different in nature, requiring creative processes specific to each.
An initial firing is done at 950 °C, followed by glazing the piece through dipping or spraying, depending on its size and shape. A second firing at 1280 °C is then performed.
How do you conceive the shape of your work?
I don't start with a preconceived idea of shape and when that happens, the result is anyway often quite divergent from the initial mental sketch. I seldom make preparatory drawings; it’s rather the finished form that, at times, lends itself to the game of drawing.
Hands, thus, play a crucial role in the evolution of the form, as does the peculiarity of the clay, which in part dictates the path taken and the outcome.
It's more of an organic, material process with its own rhythm, its constraints, than a mental process. That's why clay is my material of choice for this more immediate, more physical contact. The intermediaries like the pencil, the brush are less in my nature. However, they have been an essential prerequisite as they have shaped my gaze over the years. I've been drawing for fifteen years, particularly live models. The curves I used to draw are now embodied in space.
How does your background as a biologist inform your artistic work?
As a biologist, I have tackled the invisible, the minuscule, the complexity of vital processes. I have spent much time in microscopy, utilizing my visual sensitivity, looking for the unity of life at the cellular scale, and its seriality, its architecture at the tissue level.
I do not seek to draw inspiration from these past visions, but I sometimes realize, in the unexpected turns of a form, that they inhabit me. These investigations into living matter, counterintuitively, drove me away from science and brought me closer to nature, instilling in me a deep humility towards it. Far from wishing to control it, I only want to pay homage to it. Thus, over the past few years, a less anthropocentric worldview, more respectful of our surroundings, has been taking shape in me, evolving with my artistic, ceramic practice. All the while, I am shocked by the inhumane turn taken by industrialized societies, self-proclaimed as civilized. My artistic commitment is also deeply political, ecological. It speaks of the human ambivalence stemming from our fears. It is evident today, many years after I left science for art. It is heightened by the crisis we are experiencing, which reveals, for those willing to see, our gaping flaws.
Questions from Caroline Canault, art critic, 2021
BACKGROUND
2021 : Training workshop with Gisèle Buthod-Garçon, Maison de la Céramique, Dieulefit.
2017-2020 : Ceramicist training with Emmanuel Estève, Lyon.
2015-2018 : Bachelor degre in Art History, Université Lyon II.
2005-2007 : Drawing technic, Ecole Emile Cohl, Lyon.
2004-2005 : Mosaic artist training, Conservatoire des Meilleurs Ouvriers de France, St Etienne.
1996 : PhD in Immunology, Université de la Méditerranée, Marseille.