L’Enfer-Me-Ment/Confinement is a performance/exhibition in which 4 artists have been locked up behind two doors, between four walls during 48 hours. The aim of the performance was to spend that time closed together : creating, thinking, sharing techniques or ideas, fighting for them, for space.…

The confinement is a reminiscent of prison, of room, of solitude. This solitude engedered by seclusion, evokes feelings of walls, borders but also by contradiction, the loneliness of wide open spaces that make us dream. This is not to mention the solitude of urban spaces caused by the rapid development of our cities. Boulevards are bustling with people, crowds swarm together, live beside each other, pass without speaking to each other, without even noticing each other.

Stop time to think and reflect about freedom of creating : breaks, blockage, obessions, unrest, set ideas, judgments of values, irrational delusion or delirium which prevent us from really expressing ourselves, accessing and revealing ourselves.

A human adventure where alliances more than oppositions were created. A lot of work, lack of sleep but incredible feelings which have helped to transcend the unexpected events into creativity.

Typography engraved in glass. 21 x 74 cm

Typography engraved in glass. 21 x 74 cm



Typography engraved in glass. 21 x 70 cm

Typography engraved in glass. 21 x 70 cm

Hikikomori & Sekentei

In Japan, Hikikomori, means literally pulling inward. When I heard about it, I was completely call out the psychosociological phenomenon and moved by the different stories and cases I red. I choose to work on glass because of its inherent duality : softness from polishing and sharpness of engraving, flakes flying. It calls ambivalent meanings.

While carving the glass, I am thinking: scratch out the marks of the past on a face sunken by the time. Rub the coats of social pressure, judgement of values, conditioning, rusted together. Scrap the painter’s block syndrom, the breaks, the failure’s fear, results requirements,… Graze the old childhood memories when there were no inhibitions. Scratch the skin already furrowed with wrinkles just to see deeper. Go out…which might be obviously one of the deepest desire of those young adults Hikikomori.

Typography engraved in plaster. 25 x 50 cm

Typography engraved in plaster. 25 x 50 cmExit


Or Shall I have written « No Exit » as the title of the French play « Huis Clos » in which the existentialist Jean-Paul Sartre, depict three characters punished by being locked into a room together for eternity.

One of is most famous and most often misinterpreted quotations is from that play : « Hell is other people ». Actually, the hell is not the relationship to the others but coming from the judgement of the others upon us and the constant ontological struggle of being caused to see oneself as an object in the world of another consciousness.

« Actually the others are the most important part of ourselves, for our self-knowledge. When we think about us, when we try to know ourselves, we use the knowledge that the others have about us, we judge with the means that they have, they gave us, to judge us. Whatever I can say about me, there is always a part of the other’s judgment inside. Whatever I feel about me, the other’s judgment enter inside. Which means that if my relation to the others is not good, I am getting myself in total dependence of the others and then I am actually in hell… »

Typography engraved in plaster. 25 x 95 cm

Typography engraved in plaster. 25 x 95 cm


A Window on an imaginary place such as « The Tartar Steppe » by the Italian author Dino Buzatti (Le Désert des Tartares) or «The Opposing Shore » (Le Rivage des Syrtes) in the French novel of Julien Gracq.

In the first one, the hero, Drogo, is posted to the remote outpost overlooking a desolate Tartar desert; he spends his career waiting for the hypothetic barbarian hordedesert. Without noticing, he let years and decades pass and this vain escape of time, waiting for glory, or social gratitude, because of an irrepressible fear of failure or an abyssal lack of love, leave him at death doorstep, in front of the pathetic emptiness and usefullness of is life.

In the second one, the Shore is the central figure of the fiction and delimit the licit and the illicit space, drawing a border which become a metaphoric window to a new poetic and oneiric world. The narrator bored by the immobility and silence, waiting for something to happen and untie the situation, slowly becomes obsessed with the unseen border and starts entertaining the thought of crossing it, whatever it can change, thinking that destruction may be preferable to decadence.

Both of the story, ask similar questions : what to do in front of nothingness ? Many possibilities of destiny but many choices to do. Do we need to act or to stay, waiting for something to happen, pretending nothing will happen but just enjoying world, thriving life without trying to give a sense to it? This would mean staying in an esthetic sphere, in the Kierkergaard’s outlook, enjoying the immediacy of pleasure instead of the ethic or religious state.

Attache-moi & Détache-moi

Typography work made of only one thread such as the Ariane’s one which guide you to your deepest ego. This work is based on a reflexion about the freedom to be truely yourself, to be really congruent at first, then in your relation to one other or the others. Are we obliged to choose to be? Where do I begin to be the one the others would like me to be? Till where shall we accept to meet the projection of their idea on us or to be closed in? Where are the borders, the limits, what can we accept or not ? Till where shall we protect ourselves or share ? Sometimes we are entangled between the desire to belong to and the need to stay independant. Subbtle balance on the threads’edge between the ego and the id.

« There is no more common feeling than the desire to be different » J.P.Sartre.

Mix média

Mix média

Tribute to Camus

Red thread’s typography on wood. « One must imagine Sisyphus happy ». This sentence is the remarked conclusion of a philosophical essay called « The Myth of Sisyphus » from the French author Albert Camus.

For Camus, Sisyphus is personifying the absurdity of human life. The man is a being full of meaning but he never succeed in reaching the essence of things. He has an insatiable quest of meaning, unity, and clarity in the face of an unintelligible world devoid of God and eternal truths or values. Furthermore, he is afraid of death and he will never really manage to catch it, even if he would have wanted it.

So the situation seems to be unsurmountable because there is a contradiction between the desire of human reason and unreasonable world. It is not really the world that is absurd, nor human thought: the absurd arises when the human need to understand the unreasonableness of the world.

Does the realization of the meaningless and absurdity of life necessarily require suicide? For Camus, suicide must be rejected: without man, the absurd cannot exist. The contradiction must be lived; reason and its limits must be acknowledged, without false hope. However, the absurd has to be known but can never be accepted: it requires constant confrontation and revolt. It is only in that state of mind that man can reach a certain kind of peacefull and conscient joy, probably a little bit dull, such a serenity, but a true one. The hope of paradoxical happiness depend on him, despite the monotony of human condition.

Vegetal jail serie

To enjoy the features of a matter, following it by slow movements to see where it can lead. To improve its properties adding several technique one by one as coat of thoughts : the beautifull pattern that nature can give us and which move me. It reminds me an Old French tale from the 19th century in which the trees are snapping shut behind the heroine as she is entering more deeply in the forest.

Vegetal jail

To enjoy the features of a matter, following it by slow movements to see where it can lead. To improve its properties adding several technique one by one as coat of thoughts : the beautifull pattern that nature can give us and which move me. It reminds me an Old French tale from the 19th century in which the trees are snapping shut behind the heroine as she is entering more deeply in the forest.


Final countdown Part I & II

There is something tragic but beautifull, dull but peacefull and very poetic in the monotony of a work, in the repetition of a gesture. Like this man in the Wayne Wang’s movie « Smoke » scripted by Paul Auster. He was going out of his little Tobacco shop every morning, same place, same time, to take a picture, collecting them in books.

In a sense, this work can refer to the the Myth of Sisyphus but it can also call up the story of Robinson Crusoe who lived alone in an un-inhabited Island, having been cast on shore by shipwreck, wherein all the Men perished but himself. Then he had to count the days to try to remember and to stay paradoxically linked to the societyFurthermore it can also call to mind the theme of exil that Ovide has expressed so melancholy in the elegiac poetry « Les Tristes » in the year 8 after Christ.

It reminds me also an American movie of the seventies « Papillon » based on the autobiography of the French convict Henri Charrière. Papillon was unjustly convicted of murder and sentenced to life imprisonment in the notorious French penal colony on Devil’s Island (off the coast of French Guiana). The man tried and tried again to escape but he was always brought back to the beginning. This is a metaphore of the tragedy of the Man in front of his own condition. The meaning of life for a condemned innocent become an obsessional quest of escape.


In this artwork, I wanted to depict walls, gates, lines and borders from everywhere in the world at different part of History. It led me to topics such as immigration, dictatorship, war,… I added a research on words which are closely related to each other despite they belong to different languages linked to those places, those moments.

House of boxes

Do not over think ! Live the experience with your feelings, your senses : see the sounds, listen the darkness,…Experiment the ubiquity. ..

Remember the room of Gregor Samsa in the Kafka’s novel « Metamorphosis » or the one of « Birdy » in William Wharton’s story… which are metaphor of inner room : isolation and mutism.

Teleport you mind to a cell in a Prison Island in Panama, United States, Vietnam, Italy, or South Africa…going past by a makeshift house such as those of Calais, in France, where the sand dunes and streets became a camping out and squatter settlements called « The Jungle » after the Interior Minister Nicolas Sarkozy decided to close the Sangatte camp in 2002.

Rain of chains

Hanged chains, locks and slave bandle, handcuffs….which evoke a part of the African history: ancient or modern.



Rope of prisoner’s clothes braid together…


Do not see any religious or political point of view here. It is only an artwork. We just wanted to explore the question of the freedom to express which is the highest value for artists.