My name is Zhou Yiyan and I’m a multidisciplinary sculptor originally from Shanghai, now based in Paris since 2007 at my studio which is located in Asnières-sur-Seine. My artistic journey delves into the intriguing forms of flint and the dynamic movements of the human body, expressed through clay modelling and intricate metalwork with brass and gold. I am captivated by the coexistence of opposites and the transformative power of materials, which I attempt to explore by blending the delicacy of clay with the strength of metal. In addition to sculpture, I create performance art that fuses dance, drawing, and music, capturing the fluidity and expressiveness of bodily movement.
Zhou Yiyan in her riverside studio boat
Can you share some details about your primary technique?
My primary technique for shaping my sculptures involves mass modeling with earthenware clay. When working with porcelain, I employ a method known as plate modelling using porcelain paper to construct the pieces. I also strive to enhance and embellish my creations with golden accents, achieved through the use of brass or gold.
Did you choose your medium or do you feel your medium chose you?
Great question! I would say it’s a bit of both. Initially, I was drawn to clay and then to metals for their ability to express contrasts and complements in my work. However, over time, I guess it feels as though these materials have chosen me in return, allowing me to explore and express my ideas more fully. The interplay of their delicacy and robustness, and the blend of warm and cool light, perfectly aligns with my artistic vision and creative approach.
Describe your work in three words.
Movement, contrast, and harmony.
Trois Grâces by Zhou Yiyan (black clay with brass stem, 2020, 18 x 30 x 8 cm)
What themes do you find yourself returning to in your work and why?
I often return to the themes like reflection, balance, and grafting—ideas that resonate deeply within me and that I strive to translate into my sculptures and performances. This is why I incorporate brass and bronze into my work. Before defining these themes, I focused primarily on the form of the sculptures themselves. Now, these themes allow me to delve into deeper concepts, adding extra dimensions to my work and enriching the artistic experience I aim to share.
What is the importance of movement in your work?
I naturally work with great emotion, often drawing in tandem with the movements of a dancer performing in front of me. When a particular drawing inspires me to create a model, I feel an inner turmoil that mirrors the dancer’s rhythm. Movement reflects the fluidity and constant transformation of life, adding a dynamic dimension to my sculptures and performances. It captures human energy and emotion, allowing me to explore the interactions and relationships between forms, materials, and space, thus enriching the depth and meaning of my work.
Draw in Movement by Zhou Yiyan (charcoal on paper, 2020, 42 x 29 cm)
Can you tell us a little more about how you convey these rich and complex emotions in your work?
I convey complex feelings and emotions, such as sensitivity, in several ways. A 15-minute performance with the public is an intense, concentrated and pure transmission of my emotions. During these performances, every movement and gesture is impregnated with my feelings, offering a direct and immediate experience. In drawing, I draw a lot, especially in movement, at the same time as the movements. My hands become the interpreters of my emotions, capturing the sensations and nuances of each moment. Sometimes I also express myself with poetic texts. Then I try to convey all these sensations in my sculptures. Sculpting tends to be the longest and most delicate process.
When did you realise you wanted to become an artist?
Ever since I was a little girl, I’ve wanted to create. My passion for art and design has always driven me to pursue my craft as purely as possible, free from commercial compromises. However, I never explicitly thought, “I want to become an artist,” especially not while growing up. It wasn’t until I left my job in 2015 that I truly considered this path.
My primary goal was to immerse myself in my ideas, taking the time to realise them deeply and authentically. To achieve this, I isolated myself and worked non-stop. In this process, I felt like a fish returning to water—completely at ease, with ideas and thoughts flowing freely. This immersion brought me immense joy, the only true joy in my life.
I’ve never dwelled on the label of “artist”; instead, I focused on bringing my ideas to life. Now, gradually, I feel I’m becoming an artist, though it’s not something I rely on to structure my day.
Zhou Yiyan’s boat studio, featuring her friendly mascot. Can you spot them?
Share a defining moment in your artistic career.
The creation of my sculpture “Premier Dancing Woman” stemmed from a particularly powerful experience. One winter, I was drawn to a piece of flint on a beach, hidden under a much larger rock. I carefully removed it and placed it on another small rock facing the sea. Its shape resembled a flying dress, and as I photographed it, stories began to unfold in my mind—her story. Inspired, I immediately wrote the poem “Dancing Woman” and sketched her as you would a dancer you admire.
When I later sculpted her in clay, an overwhelming emotion swept over me. As my hands touched the clay, tears welled up in my eyes, and I thought, “I’ve found my family at last.” This sculpture became one of my first three, marking a significant milestone in my artistic journey.
Do you need any specific conditions in place to be creative? For example, lighting, quiet, or music?
Lighting and silence are very important to me. These conditions create an environment conducive to concentration and reflection, which is essential for releasing my creativity and fully immersing myself in my work.
How do you know when you’ve finished an artwork?
I often know that a sculpture is finished when it feels ‘alive’ in front of me. At this point, I stop altering its form and focus only on the finishing touches. Sometimes, it’s simply a matter of intuition: the work speaks to me, and I sense that there’s nothing more to add or remove.
“Artisan Geometry” is the overarching term used to describe the design approach in the five Lost Art Press books by Jim Tolpin and George Walker. We often get asked to explain it, and to recommend one or more of their books with which to get started.
We decided those questions would be better answered by Jim and George themselves – so they wrote a brief explanation of the term, then gave us some summations of each of the books. Check out the new Artisan Geometry page in our online store for their thoughts.
A series exploring themes of platonic intimacy and the power of touch by New England-based photographer Jillian Freyer (previously featured here). Freyer holds an MFA from Yale and a BFA from Massachusetts College of Art and Design. Her work explores themes of the familial, shared experiences, and the quotidian. “Pas de Deux” represents a collection of photographs taken between 2012-2024. Through staged performances and observation, Freyer considers the boundaries between beauty and violence, questioning what differentiates the movements of a dance between two people and an act of self-defence when, in both instances, the bodies sway and roll and reveal a sense of vulnerability:
“Exposed bellies, backs of knees, two women wrestling, and a pile of hands gathering on my grandmother’s arm. I have always been drawn to these secret moments, sacred sites within our internal and most intimate worlds. As I create these photographs, it becomes clear that I am composing a world where I desire to exist. My camera mediates between my lived experiences and those I so deeply desire, a place existing between the landscape and my lens. These photographs of women are not just images; they are an offering. They extend a sense of community, a thread of connection, even in the most solitary of moments.”
Let’s start by introducing our readers to yourself and your practice.
I am Miguel Ripoll, a writer and visual artist. I spend half of my time coming up with instructions and berating machines, and the other half of my time turning those instructions into large complex images through a process that combines both manual intervention and physical, centuries-old printing methods and materials. I am also a humanist, because the entire process is human-driven, based on my own unique human consciousness, and because I do believe in in humanity–as terrifyingly flawed as it sadly is–and its inexhaustible capacity for transcendence, imagination and progress.
Vis Humana (from the series “Unreliable Heroes”) by Miguel Ripoll (Mixed digital media on hand-finished archival-grade Hahnemühle canvas 340 g/m2, 2023, 100 x 100 cm)
Fascinated by technology and art from an early age, I started experimenting with combinatorial algorithms and generative code (our grandfather’s AI) back in 1999–my early digital pieces (exhibited in major institutions like the Reina Sofía Museum in Madrid, the Akademie der Künste in Berlin, and the Cervantes Institute) are now in the permanent collection of the Design Museum in Barcelona–but became frustrated by the limitations of the very rudimentary technology available at the time and decided to pause artistic practice entirely.
For the following two decades, instead, I became an expert in the design and coding of data-driven digital interfaces for complex information systems, continuing to explore the creative possibilities of AI and algorithms in award-winning projects for global brands and top cultural institutions. My commercial work (digital, print, film, and theatre design) has been featured in books and magazines worldwide.
Since 2021, when I started testing early advanced Large Language Models like OpenAI and Midjourney, which allow me to do now with this new technology what I couldn’t achieve 25 years ago, I have been focusing on art-making and exhibiting my new work again. Patience and discipline, it seems, always pay off.
What is your primary technique and/or medium?
My practice combines iterative human-led AI adversarial dialogue (based on a custom dataset of texts, sound files, and pictures) with hand-crafted mixed digital media. I basically feed an LLM large quantities of preselected texts and images from a wide range of sources, and then push it to do exactly the opposite it has been trained to do: instead of regurgitating hyper-realistic or derivative visual detritus, I force it to “hallucinate” in ways I find coherent with what I am trying to achieve through language and repetition of subtly modified tasks. This takes quite a bit of arm-wrestling–hence the iterative, as in again, and again, and again, and the adversarial, as in pushing the boundaries to the extreme. The process typically produces hundreds of images, of which I sometimes use only bits or fragments.
These visual elements are then manually edited, digitally modified, combined and re-mixed by me, using various digital tools, into a single image. This image is giclée printed using archival ink on hand-finished museum-grade canvas. All other digital files are deleted, and only one physical object remains: a hybrid of centuries-old traditions and the latest technology, driven by a uniquely original human vision.
In a way, I would say my approach to working with AI is a mixture between lion tamer and special needs teacher, combined with a healthy dose of patience, curiosity and resilience in the face of technological adversity. Large Language Models are remarkably prone to messing things up, which in itself is not a bad thing necessarily, at least not when creating art.
What themes do you find yourself returning to in your work and why?
Most art throughout history can be reduced to the same few themes again and again: sex, power, loss, memory, love, regret, beauty, death, money, time. Human beings are quite predictable. Our life expectancy and living conditions are radically different now than, say, two centuries ago, but our concerns are remarkably similar both as individuals and as part of a community.
Because of the intrinsically different nature of my work–AI is, after all, a radically new technology, a first in human evolution–for the past few years, I have been concentrating on exploring the role ancient narratives (myths, legends, beliefs) play within the context of our contemporary anxieties about tech dystopias, societal inequalities, personal struggles, political division, and environmental degradation.
At the heart of these pieces, which question and subvert long-established themes and traditions of artistic praxis, is a recognition that our world has become fractured by tech and that the traditional frameworks of morality, religion, society, culture and art itself are no longer sufficient to navigate our increasingly complex, hyper-connected existence.
When did you start making art?
I wrote my first short story when I was two years old – I really cannot remember NOT being an artist, if by “artist” we mean someone who sees what doesn’t exist. In practical terms, I published my first book in 1996 and had my first exhibition at the Reina Sofía Museum in Madrid in 1999. This, might I add, was curated next to an iconic Picasso showcase, which didn’t help much with my imposter syndrome!
Share a defining moment in your career as an artist
This year marked a crucial turning point in my career. I realised that the work I had been experimenting with for the past few years closely aligned with my initial expectations and was essentially what I envisioned. Achieving satisfaction with my creations—a rare feat for me—and receiving recognition has been immensely rewarding.
I was selected for the European Union’s Creative Europe NMT PMP Program, which will feature workshops and exhibitions in several countries until 2025. Additionally, four of my pieces were showcased at this year’s CVPR Conference in Seattle, the premier international event in computer vision, sponsored by Google, Meta, OpenAI, and Apple. This exhibition was curated by Luba Elliott. Another highlight was having one of my pieces featured in Rise Art’s first online exhibition, “Kinaesthesia: Art in Motion.”
This extraordinary year will also bring exciting new exhibitions and an artist-in-residence program later in winter.
Has speaking several languages fluently influenced how you communicate through your art?
I can code in several artificial languages and have been “talking to machines” for over 25 years, so learning to interact with AI is not such a huge leap: I have found the transition quite organic. Something as basic as programming a website in HTML, CSS, JS and PHP is fundamentally only a series of instructions, of “prompts” that turn data into visual assets and behaviours. My previous formal education was humanistic and not technological at all–I was a writer and studied Literature and History of Art, something I believe was very influential in the formation of my world-view and character.
I don’t think, however, that art should be about communicating anything: that is the purview of the commercial designer, which I have happily worked as for a long time, as many great artists have done in the past too; from Leonardo da Vinci designing courtly feasts for Ludovico Sforza in 1490 to Francis Bacon designing furniture and rugs for the Royal Wilton Carpet factory in 1930.
As an artist, I refuse to convey a message: I am not here to lecture, to impart wisdom, to hector or virtue signal (which seems to be what most critically favoured art is about these days). My goal is to make people think, and dream, and feel. What they think, dream and feel is entirely their own business. I am merely a medium or a catalyst.
Artworks from the series “Unreliable Heroes” by Miguel Ripoll
Do you see art-making as a language?
I see it as a language that should not be immediately intelligible. If you can understand it straight away, it is not art but propaganda. Because art is a product of human consciousness, and we don’t really understand what human consciousness is or what exactly makes us human. I see what I do as a sort of cognitive alchemy, a sort of rationalised rite to understand who I am and, by extension, who we all are as a species. AI, being a non-human “intelligence” (note the inverted commas) that is conversant with the entire compendium of human activity throughout history, is the perfect assistant to distil the rarefied materials our feverish dreams and nightmares as a species are made of. In short, I am talking to myself–which is the ultimate goal, and the most universal: only by understanding oneself might one understand the world and humanity itself, and truly communicate with others.
Is there a specific project or idea you’re currently excited about?
The transformation of flat digital text into digital texture. In my work I do not try to mimic the texture of the paintbrush: I want my works to be recognisable by their unique digital texture—also very different from pixelation.
My AI-assisted art incorporates a unique form of digital texture—the texture of data. The algorithms that help me to generate these artworks are intricately structured, resembling complex digital weaves. The texture of the digital process, from the intricate code to the interplay of data points, becomes an essential part of the art’s identity, and it is very visible in its final form. Hence the large scale of my works, so that the intricate detail can be fully appreciated. This represents a novel form of texture that is native to the digital medium and an integral aspect of my AI-mediated art.
How do you know when you’ve finished an artwork?
True art is never finished because it is not trying to solve a problem. You cannot find the final answer, because art is not about the answer, but about asking the question. That is what I do, I ask questions, and then it is up to someone else (whoever looks at my work) to provide their own answers. So, an artwork is never finished because the question is always open. It is always: what do you see? In my practice, I stop when I look at an image and I cannot respond to that question myself: then I know the artwork is ready for other people to try and find their answer(s).
Do you see your work as building bridges between two stereotypically polar opposite industries? Technology and the arts?
Technology and art have always been intertwined. Throughout history, great artists have eagerly adopted the most advanced technologies of their time to evolve their practice. Dürer’s use of the printing press created a new medium for accessible, affordable art through printmaking. Leonardo’s pioneering scientific research opened new possibilities in pictorial technique. The invention of synthetic pigments in the 19th century enabled mass access to art making and revolutionised visual representation with movements like Impressionism, transforming our concept of what art could be. Photography also had a radical impact, decoupling art from mere reproduction of “reality” and challenging our understanding of both reality and art.
Whenever these new technologies emerged, elites—practitioners accustomed to the old ways, merchants, gatekeepers, critics—viewed them as threats to their status quo and existing privileges, and they pushed back. New technologies disrupt market dynamics and challenge established order, making them seem “dangerous.” Yet, they are also unstoppable: despite resistance, progress always ultimately prevails.
How could I not? I am working in the 21st century. What I do is part of a long tradition, and doesn’t happen in a vacuum: I am very aware of the past, so that I can be relevant to the present. I am an artist of my time, so I use the most advanced technology of my time. Otherwise, I would be an anachronism, and my art obsolete and irrelevant.
What astonishes me is how artists, critics, collectors and agents, can possibly still ignore art made with today’s technology (and even actively try to suppress or dismiss it): trying to stop progress is not only ridiculous and ignorant. It is inescapably self-defeating. In the end, it is all about knowledge and power: the unknown is always scary, a potential threat. Instead of fighting it, gallerists, critics and curators should learn about technology and even embrace it. A new connoisseurship is now needed to tell the wheat from the ever-abundant digital chaff.
What are you trying to communicate with your art?
Most of what is popular at any given time in history, especially today, is very obvious and facile, and doesn’t require any intellectual effort from the viewer: it is not art, but mere decoration. Art must question us and make us try harder to see what is not there. If you understand the thing immediately, what you are looking at is worthless. Art should be an unopened door to deeper human consciousness–you can either try to find the key or smash it open, both of which are rewarding, but require considerable energy and resourcefulness from the viewer. Curiosity and openness to look inwards are the keys to that door. Behind it we will find what makes us unique.
Classical Around Town: Charles White Elementary School
jascencio
Mon, 04/14/2025 – 13:01
These hour-long concerts feature a string quartet of leading BIPOC musicians performing family-friendly music, with a Q&A to follow each concert. These fun, informal, and intimate presentations are geared toward families and those who enjoy and want to learn more about classical music in an informal setting. Join us at venues across Los Angeles County this summer!
Short Title
Classical Around Town: Charles White Elementary School
All education and outreach programs at LACMA are underwritten by the LACMA Education Fund and are supported in part by the Judy and Bernard Briskin Family Foundation, The Rosalinde and Arthur Gilbert Foundation, the William Randolph Hearst Endowment Fund for Arts Education, Alfred E. Mann Charities, The Ralph M. Parsons Foundation, Gloria Ricci Lothrop, the Flora L. Thornton Foundation, U.S. Bank, and The Yabuki Family Foundation.
We’ve just received 3,000 copies of our newest edition of “With All the Precision Possible: Roubo on Furniture” and are offering it for a special introductory price: $100 with free domestic shipping until April 20, 2025.
This new edition is a significant upgrade “trade” edition, which was in black-and-white and on uncoated paper. The new edition is printed in color, so you can fully appreciate the tone of the cotton paper from the 18th-century engravings. We upgraded the paper to a #100 coated matte paper, enlarged the page size, added printed end sheets and include a tear-resistant dust jacket.
Why do this? Well, I never thought our “trade” edition quite matched the gravity of the project. Don Williams, Michele Pietryka-Pagán and Philippe Lafargue spent years translating the writings of André Roubo’s “l’art du Menuisier.” It is the world’s first masterpiece of woodworking writing, and only bits and pieces were ever translated into English.
So last year we began working on a replacement for our “trade” edition. It’s arrived in our warehouse, and it is impressive.
Like all things with the Roubo project, the printing bill was massive. And so to recoup some of that money, we are offering it at a 20 percent discount with free domestic shipping until April 20, 2025. After that, it will be $125 (still a good price, I must say).
You can read more about the book here. Or watch this cheesy ad I made:
Sometimes it’s unclear what the difference is between art print companies, especially if you compare them online. However, all of us can agree that high-quality printing can make or break the display of a piece. High-resolution, well-crafted prints bring art to life, capturing the vibrancy, details, and textures that a lower-quality print might miss. With advancements in printing technology, fine art printing has evolved into a specialized service. In this guide, we’ll explore the benefits of using high-quality art printing services and why it’s worth the investment for collectors and creators.
#1 Maintaining Originality and Detail
A major benefit of high-quality art printing services is the ability to reproduce broad and accurate color spectrum, contrast and details of the original, fine art. Standard printing processes may fail to capture super fine brushstrokes, texture, and shifts in tone that create a special feeling when we look at art. So art printing companies that use high-resolution giclée or specialized pigment-based inks can offer reasonable fidelity.
If you plan on using the art printing service yourself, you must have a high-resolution, digital file to print from that’s at least 300 dpi and saved as a png or raw file. jpegs are compressed images and the file compression may show up printing large posters.
Sir Frederic Leighton, La Nanna
#2 Using Archival-Grade Materials
Archival-grade materials are designed to last decades without fading, yellowing, or warping. This level of durability is essential for anyone looking to keep their art prints in pristine condition over the long term, especially when they are limited-edition or rare art prints. Companies like the Stackhouse printing use the highest-quality materials for colorful art reproductions that can last over 100 years without fading under museum conditions.
Always keep your art and prints away from a direct sunlight, artificial light, high humidity and changing room temperature conditions. Art and prints fade, crack and warp if they're not custom-framed with archival, non-glare plexiglass and backing.
Archival materials used for printing add an extra layer of protection, helping fine prints resist the effects of light and moisture, thereby preserving their beauty and market value. When you shop for a printer, ask what supplies they use because paper must be pH-neutral not to yellow over time.
Moonlight, 22x30in, closeup, colored pencil on art board, Veronica Winters
#3 Using Advanced Printing Techniques
Companies that create high-quality art prints use advanced printing techniques. Some of these methods include:
● Giclée Printing: A technique known for its exceptional quality, giclée printing uses pigment-based inks and high-resolution printers. This method is popular among artists and art collectors due to its ability to render incredibly detailed reproductions that mimic the look and feel of the original piece. ● UV-Protective Coatings: UV coatings shield prints from sunlight, which can fade colors over time. This added layer of protection is necessary for prints displayed in well-lit spaces or under direct lighting. Printing companies like the Stackhouse use these advanced methods for high-end art reproductions.
#4 Having Customization
Customization is a big advantage of working with a high-quality art printing service. Standard printing services often have limited choices in sizes, framing, and finish. A specialized art print shop can print pictures in a requested size. It’s invaluable for art collectors aiming to match a print to their collection’s theme or display needs, as well as for artists wanting to maintain complete control over the presentation of their work for a show.
If you plan to make a large order, ask for a test run of your pictures. I'm sure the shop could print a sample for you to appreciate their quality.
#5 Enhancing the Viewer’s Experience
Usually, we can distinguish between the art print and the original when we look at art in person. The emotional impact is lost in art reproductions. However, today advanced printing techniques are so good that high-quality prints can evoke similar emotions as the original piece. If you go to the Miami Art Context you can look at gigantic photographs that have beautiful detail, color, contrast, and sharpness. Sometimes art galleries display printed digital art that looks impressive because of high-definition in prints. The quality is so perfect that it looks like art, not a print.
Javier Bellomo Coria, Face, Miami Art Fait, 2017
#6 Offering Long-Term Value and Investment Protection
Both limited-edition prints and rare art prints could become a valuable investment when these art prints are signed by a famous artist. Such prints may appreciate in value over time because the artist gains recognition. Therefore, it’s important to know if they were printed with high-quality inks, paper, and UV coating to ensure longevity and peace of mind, knowing that art prints will continue to hold their value and appeal.
Andy Warhol’s silkscreen print seen at the auction in Naples, FL
You must understand the difference between a giclee print and a hand-pulled lithograph or silkscreen. Both types of prints can be signed by a famous artist, but the first one is a computer-generated print, while lithographs, silkscreens and intaglios are hand-made prints pulled through the press. Done in multiples, these prints should have a much higher price point as opposed to a giclee print.
Next time you see a beautiful art print, ask its owner where it got printed. I keep a short list of businesses that offer different art services. For anyone serious about their collection or artistic portfolio, investing in a professional art printing service is a decision that pays off in the quality and satisfaction of each piece produced.
For Marianna Simnett, sticking to one medium or theme defies her interpretation of what art can be. She fights the natural proclivity of galleries, collectors, and art enthusiasts to typecast her practice as one thing. “Trying to shed those expectations every time—trying to do something different—it’s exhausting but so worth it,” she says in an interview for Art Basel. “Now the signature is that people don’t know what to expect, and that’s the best outcome possible.”
Among myriad strains of her practice—which include filmmaking, sculpture, installation, painting, and performance—a collection of bronze crowns created between 2022 and 2024 command our attention. Situated on top of bespoke velvet cushions, Simnett’s Crowns are cast in an alloy that would make the elaborate headpieces burdensome or even painful to wear, yet the meticulously formed arches, band, and spikes manifest as delicate mammals and birds.
“Hydra” (2023), bronze and velvet, 55 1/2 x 17 1/2 x 17 1/2 inches
“Simnett uses vivid and visceral means to explore the body as a site of transformation,” says a statement from SOCIÉTÉ, which represents the artist. “In psychologically charged works that challenge both herself and the viewer, Simnett imagines radical new worlds filled with untamed thoughts, strange tales, and desires.”
Named for powerful female figures from ancient lore like Discordia, the Greek goddess of strife, or Lilith, a she-demon in Jewish and Mesopotamian mythology, Simnett’s Crowns examine the power, ferocity, and sublimity of allegorical female figures. One can imagine that only supernatural beings could wear these pieces and feel comfortable.
Simnett’s sculptures were first shown in her exhibition OGRESS in 2022. “In fairy tales and folklore, the ogress is a voracious monster who deceives men and torments children in her quest to ravish them whole,” says an exhibition statement. Simnett wielded “the ogress’ insatiable hunger as a radical force,” illuminating the role of women in myth and legend, especially the symbolic tension between embracing and fearing those who are different.
Simnett’s solo exhibition Charades opens at SOCIÉTÉ on May 1, coinciding with Berlin Gallery Weekend. Explore a wide range of the artist’s multimedia work on her website and Instagram.
“Laverna” (2023), bronze and velvet, 55 1/2 x 17 1/2 x 17 1/2 inchesDetail of “Laverna”“Discordia” (2023), bronze and velvet, 17 1/2 x 17 1/2 x 16 inches“Maniae” (2022), bronze and velvet, 17 1/2 x 17 1/2 x 16 inches“Lilith” (2024), bronze and velvet, 57 1/2 x 17 1/2 x 17 1/2 inchesDetail of “Lilith”“Astraea” (2023), bronze and velvet, 55 1/2 x 17 1/2 x 17 1/2 inches
Tell us about your participation in our exhibition Kineasthesia: Art in Motion. What attracted you to this project?
The titles of my paintings, such as I’m not in a place; it’s the space that’s inside me (Je ne suis pas dans un lieu c’est l’espace qui est en moi), refer to conceptual issues encountered in my practice and philosophical pursuits: inhabiting the body, gravity, touch, chiaroscuro, and phenomenology. All my work as a painter is nourished by my practice of dance-contact-improvisation. In concrete terms, the issues of the body’s relationship to space, to itself, to the Other, gravity, the creation of movement – pre-movement – are at the heart of my work. All these practices are physical: playing with contact, touching and being touched, opening up the ‘inner ear’, working on separation, attention.
This physical work is underpinned by a whole range of conceptual and philosophical ideas, from the phenomenology of the philosopher Merleau-Ponty to the practice of Hubert Godard, not forgetting the work of the philosopher and art historian Didi-Huberman in Faits d’affects (2023).
Remi Delaplace in front of his works. Available to discover in his online gallery.
How do you define kinaesthesia in the context of your artistic work?
The relationship between movement and space runs through all of my work via the representation of bodies: objects situated, oriented, and moved in space. Directions: ground-sky, perspectives, states of gravity, the near and the far, and depth, give rhythm to my painting. My solids are perspectives, my gradations depths.
The idea is to offer an open view within the ‘frontality’ of the painting’s frame. Movement is as much internal as external, as much in my paintings as in the act of creation, of painting. Working on my body to open up my qualities of attention to myself and to space involves all my senses: sight, touch, gravity through the inner ear, listening. Inhabiting myself to be more in touch with what I’m creating. This allows me to not only integrate kinaesthesia and attentional work into the execution of my pictorial gestures, and to think of concepts related to movement that can be applied to painting, but also to create and think about the creative process.
Delaplace’s studio
Attentional work is not concentration. On the contrary, it’s about being open to your relationship with yourself and with space: allowing yourself to be permeated by what surrounds you: sounds, space, breathing, using all your senses to be in touch with the act of painting. When I paint, that means I’m not trying to create a form. It’s only the quality of the gesture that’s being worked on by this quality of contact that’s at stake. In my paintings, I tend to create open spaces that exude power as a potential for movement.
What elements of movement or dynamism have you incorporated into your work for the virtual exhibition?
Je ne suis pas un lieu c’est l’espace qui est en moi refers to dance. I set out with several intentions: to inhabit the space, to be in the world, to play with directions, to be moved and moved, while remaining within the framework of the painting. The initial idea was to create an aerial painting, a metaphor for a body in movement.
On the one hand, the folded form is representative of an exterior and an interior. The aerial plane is painted, in a gesture, by the direct contact of my hand with the smooth, fluid material of the paint: touching and being touched, you can almost taste the bold and delicious colours. The idea is not to do, not to paint, but to be in the affect: a tonic quality, in directed attention.
On the other hand, the line creates a tension between the subject and the frame, the movement of the subject and the space. I have brought together, in a single sign, the notions of direction and gravity: the two grounds, contact with the ground and contact with the inner ear, up and down. The result is a line of movement open to infinity, holding and balancing the folded form in a depthless space.
The works Clair Obscur and Impesanteur share the same creative process of montage: first, a background. Second, a form in which a reversal takes place. The background becomes form through a process of unveiling. The background becomes the subject, changing from object or setting to subject.
These two paintings combine Merleau-Ponty’s reflections on phenomenology: what appears, with those developed by Didi-Huberman in his lectures on Les Faits d’Affects. The idea of ‘making a sign’ in reference to the hands painted in the darkness of prehistoric caves, parietal art. The idea of ‘chiaroscuro’ as an opening to possibilities, in reference to the work of Caravaggio: the power of the apparition, of the unspeakable.
For the background, I played on affect (tonicity, the desire for direction), the pleasure of touching the canvas, the materiality of the paint, of being touched by the colours. Nothing is represented, everything is an event, a tonic movement. The work on form is a search based on multiple sketches, an open movement. Through a process of concealment, I cover the background to reveal the form whose material is the background. For the painting Clair Obscur, I play with perspective and diagram in an aerial movement (a reference to Rosalind Krauss). The theme of the second painting is ‘weightlessness’, the falling of the body, outside of gravity.
Your work tends to explore the relationship between space and movement. Can you tell us more about this exploration?
I come from the Support Surface movement. I’ve exhibited at the Réalités Nouvelles Salon. All my pictorial work tends to free me from habits, representations, primary images, and movements inscribed in my body and mind. On the fringes of expressionist and figurative painting, I advocate a new form of painting that takes up the codes of perspective without any narrative.
Remi Delaplace, Impesanteur 1 (acrylic on canvas, 2024, 100 x 100 cm)
Initially, my work focused on using landscape as a metaphor for the body, drawing parallels with geological processes like plate tectonics, faults, and strata. This led to reflections on the concept of the fold, symbolising the interplay between interior and exterior. From this, I created body-objects that explored the relationship between the body and space, gravity, and levitation, challenging the viewer’s perspective.
In later research, I delved into the intersection of dance and theatre, examining concepts such as setting, stage, and event, where movement emerges in space as a form of drama. My series on touch and affect further investigated the idea of ‘what appears’, focusing on affect, tonicity, and the reversal of background and figure, with movement originating from within.
My latest series, Clair Obscur, explores the idea of making a sign, where painting becomes an act of unveiling. Marcel Duchamp’s assertion that ‘the spectator makes the work’ prompted me to question the artist’s role and led me to investigate the power of the gesture—its origin and significance.
Remi Delaplace, Clair Obscur (acrylic on canvas, 2024, 80 x 80 cm)
There is no space without the potential for gesture. I’ve learned to distinguish between power and potential. In the relationship between space and movement, perception plays a crucial role—movement in space is necessary for perception to occur. This relationship also involves duration and time.
Several avenues of research continue to influence my work. My focus is on the quality of the space-movement relationship: exploring space as emptiness, as the potential for action, and as a form of separation. Merleau-Ponty describes space as the flesh of the world, while Hubert Godard suggests that “it is because I inhabit myself that I can create another space.”
The Japanese concept of ‘Ma’ refers to an interval, a space that is also a duration, signifying a void between objects or events—much like a pause in music. It is an empty space-time, yet one filled with possibilities yet to unfold. The search continues.
What are the main influences that have shaped your artistic style?
In 2005, I discovered the work of John Maeda at the Fondation Cartier and Michal Rovner at the Jeu de Paume, which sparked my interest in the intersection of theatre and visual arts. This interest led me to attend lectures at Le Cube and at the École du Louvre, where Bernard Blistène focused on the works of Samuel Beckett. My curiosity about behavioural and interactive art deepened, prompting me to study Contemporary Art and New Media at the University of Paris 8, where I explored digital technology, interactivity, and the role of the spectator.
I fell in love with the immersive works of James Turrell and Véronica Janssens, where the experience of being enveloped by colour is profound. Additionally, I am deeply moved by the colours in the frescoes of Roman villas, such as Villa Livia and Casa della Farnesina at the Massimo Museum in Rome, as well as the Pompeii frescoes in the Archaeological Museum in Naples. The rich red hues of the imperial period, combined with the use of perspective and the quality of space, resonate with me.
Two works by Caravaggio continually challenge me. The Vocation of Saint Matthew in the Church of Saint-Louis des Français in Rome captivates me with its expressive eyes and hands, the gestures of separation, and the presence of voids. Meanwhile, The Beheading of St. John the Baptist in Malta prompts me to reflect on my relationship with scale, frontality, and the significance of background in space.
What is your vision of contemporary art and the role of the artist in today’s society?
What kind of art are we talking about? The world of art is incredibly rich and diverse, encompassing countless forms of expression: dance, imagery, painting, installations, and more. Yet, despite this diversity, art inevitably falls into categories: institutional art, scholarly art, popular art, the art market. These categories are constantly shifting—street art moves into museums, and comics find their way to auction houses.
Creativity often emerges where we least expect it, with artistic movements intersecting with ecology and sociology. However, conservatism and the repetition of forms are always close by, even in contemporary art. True novelties are rare and therefore precious. Among all this diversity, only a few forms of expression endure over time, and painting is one of them.
Sketches by Delaplace
For the artist, the key is to understand their position. The artist’s role is to pay attention to the world and to maintain a vision of it. It’s a task done for others, for those who are focused on different concerns. Ultimately, it’s a job of observation and awakening.
Can you describe your creative process, from the initial idea to completion?
My creative process evolves as I mature and as I work on projects related to the concepts I’m exploring. I always start with a problem I’m focused on, then choose a process that reveals that problem.
I prepare my canvases based on the chosen process—crumpled, folded, unbleached, or prepared—stretched or un-stretched on a frame. My recent paintings involve montage. I begin by painting a toned-down background where nothing is represented; everything is an event, a tonic movement. Then, through a lengthy process, I construct the form with the goal of bringing the background to the forefront.
For example, in my painting Image, Imagination, Space-Time, I selected the fabric purely for its tactile quality—a fine, silky texture, with a blue colour that resonated with me. For the background, I applied paint directly to the fabric with my hands, focusing on the tactile pleasure of touching the smooth, warm paint on the fabric. This process kept me connected to the ground and the surrounding space, guided by my inner ear and driven by a desire to explore tone and direction. Next, I moved on to constructing the piece, using sketches to bring the background into the foreground. The quality of the colours, flat tones, and gradations is crucial in distributing the space and revealing the background, transforming it into a central figure.
When Nick, a woodworker and LAP reader, first let us know about Layout Computer, his free digital chair design tool, I thought, “Wow – that’s nifty and would be awfully useful…if only I made chairs.”
Well, now I think it’s unbearably cool and altogether useful, because Nick has added casework (as well as a dovetail joints, and he’s working on a drawer-design function right now).
Bookmark Nick’s site. The tool is a quick way to mock up various casework configurations – and a lot more quickly than I was ever able to do it in SketchUp – using a series of sliding tabs to change ratios, board thicknesses. (Watch the short video on the “Casework” page and you’ll quickly be up to speed on how to use the tool.)
You can play with combinations of bases, vertical divisions, depths, number of shelves so on, and you can toggle between metric and American customary units.
And when you’re satisfied, click the “layout” tab to get the dimensions for your design. Then you can generate a URL (under the “save” tab) to quickly get back to your masterpiece.
And did I mention it’s free? Nick developed Layout Computer make it easy for him to mock up his own work, but he generously shares his work with the world (though if you’re so inclined donations are welcomed – just click on the “About” tab on the home page).
– Fitz
p.s. The “Joint” tab is also a lot of fun to play with…and confirms my long-held belief that 1:6 is the best dovetail angle 🙂
