When you dip a branch in the water, its submerged part appears deformed with respect to the one that remains dry. This always fascinated me: I could say that my whole artistic research is a way to try to raise the magic triggered by the dipping of a branch in the water.


I am interested in the extraordinary lost stories of ordinary people—those who left, who migrated, bringing along their roots only to plant them in a different ground, bringing along their tradition as one brings along a patch of earth, stuck on a shoe, after a long journey. I like to observe the shaping of a culture into another culture—its deformation, its reformation, its regeneration—with the same fascination by which I look at the deformation, reformation, regeneration of the branch dipped in the water: elemental interaction, contamination, cross-pollination.


Likely, I am interested in those surfaces whose interactions with the image is most deforming—screens revealing shadows, water and mirrors producing restless reflections. This is another way to raise the magic of the dipped stick: discovering new inflections of vision, showing the coherent deformation of one sole will to remark the extraordinary blossoming within the ordinary.

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