Introduction
A painter’s artistic approach is much more than a simple biographical note. It is a living text, a mirror held up between the studio and the viewer’s gaze, explaining why one paints, what one seeks, and how the hand conveys what words sometimes struggle to express. In 2026, after several years of exploring the realms of contemporary non-figurative painting and collage, it seemed essential to me to update and expand upon this foundational text. What you will read here is an invitation to enter my world, to understand the tensions that animate my canvases, and to grasp what each work attempts to resolve—or to accept that it does not resolve.
My artistic approach in 2026: a painter’s artistic journey between controlled chaos and the quest for serenity
Reading time: ~6 min — Table of Contents
- What an artistic approach means to a painter today
- My artistic world: between tension and tranquility
- Why non-figurative art? Why collage?
- My creative process, step by step
- What I'm trying to convey
- FAQ
- An evolving artistic approach in 2026

What an artistic approach means to a painter today
Understanding a painter’s artistic approach today
A painter’s artistic approach is a written self-reflection, a statement that explains the why, the what, and the how of a pictorial practice. It is not reserved for academics or art theorists. It is intended for everyone who comes into contact with an artist’s work: collectors, gallery owners, curators, critics, but also any curious art lover who stops in front of a painting and wonders what lies behind it.
This text is what is known in the English-speaking world as an artist statement. It introduces the artist’s world, their intentions, influences, and aesthetic choices. It is neither a stylistic exercise nor a catalog of techniques. Above all, it is a sincere statement, written in the first person, in the present tense, using assertive sentences that reflect a confident mastery of the artist’s practice. Saying “I paint” rather than “I try to paint.” Saying “my work explores” rather than “I hope to convey.” This difference in tone is essential.
For a non-figurative painter like myself, this is a particularly challenging task. Abstraction is not easily described. It is felt, experienced, and thought-provoking. So how can one put into words something that, by its very nature, defies definition?
My artistic world: between tension and tranquility
A world of tension and calm
My painting stems from a fundamental contradiction. On the one hand, there is an attraction to disorder, to material that spills over, to layers that build up, to happy accidents that were not sought but are immediately recognizable. On the other hand, there is a deep need for calm, for visual silence, for spaces where the eye can rest and breathe.
This tension between controlled chaos and the quest for serenity is the driving force behind each painting. It is not a problem to be solved. It is the very reason for painting. When I work on a series like L’Heure bleue or Un matin d’hiver, I seek that moment suspended between two states—neither quite night nor quite day, neither quite anxiety nor quite peace. It is in this in-between space that something true happens.
I work primarily on canvas, using mixed media that combine acrylic paint, collage, and graphic elements. For me, the material is a language in its own right. The thickness of a layer, the transparency of a glaze, the roughness of a collaged element: all of these speak, all of these shape the meaning. I do not seek to represent the visible world. I seek to capture its inner imprint—what experiences, travels, readings, and moments of silence leave as sediment in the memory.
Why non-figurative art? Why collage?
Non-figurative painting has always struck me as the most honest form of art. It doesn’t claim to tell a specific story. Instead, it offers an experience. It gives the viewer the freedom to project their own sensibilities, emotions, and references onto the work. It is this freedom that I want to offer to those who view my paintings.
Collage, for its part, entered my practice as a necessity. It introduces a temporal and memorial dimension that painting alone is not always sufficient to create. A fragment of paper, an illegible text, a texture taken from elsewhere: these elements enrich the surface, giving it a depth that is not merely visual. They tell a story of an era, a passage, a trace. In works such as Marques lapidaires or Écrits, this archaeological dimension is particularly present. The canvas becomes a sort of stratigraphy, a place where the layers of time can be read without revealing themselves entirely.
My influences are many and varied, and I embrace them fully. I think of Gerhard Richter for the relationship between figuration and abstraction, of Pierre Soulages for the power of his brushstrokes and the depth of his materials, of Sean Scully for the precision of his color structures, and of Mark Bradford for his use of collage as a form of collective memory. These artists are not models to be imitated. They are interlocutors, points of reference in a dialogue that continues with each new canvas.

My creative process, step by step
The key stages of my painting process
Each painting begins with a period of observation and accumulation. I collect images, materials, words, and colors. I go for walks, I travel, I look around. Nothing is immediately usable, but everything seeps in. Then comes a turning point—often difficult to anticipate—when the urge to paint becomes urgent.
In my studio, I work on several canvases at the same time. This multi-tasking is essential. It keeps me from getting too attached to a solution too quickly, or from finishing a piece before it’s truly ready. I can return to a canvas weeks later with fresh eyes and understand what it needed from me. You can explore this workspace by visiting the studio.
The color is decided early on, but it’s constantly evolving. I often start with muted tones—earthy hues, grays, blacks. Then sometimes a burst of bright color—a yellow, a blue—comes along and throws everything into question. This burst is never random. It responds to something the canvas demands: a breath of fresh air, a necessary imbalance.
The key steps in my process are as follows:
| Step | Contents |
|---|---|
| Soaking and collection | Reading, travel, observations, subjects |
| Setup | Initial layers, often applied quickly and with a freehand touch |
| Collage | Glued elements that anchor the composition in a tangible reality |
| In-depth work | Relationships between regions, tensions, and balances |
| Pickup and Return | Anticipation, followed by an outside perspective on the work |
What I'm trying to convey
I paint for those who seek an authentic experience in art, not just neutral decor. My paintings are meant for curious, discerning, and sensitive viewers—for collectors who want a work of art to still speak to them ten years from now, who want their home to have a soul, a purpose, and an open-ended question.
I don’t seek to please immediately. I seek to create a lasting relationship between the work and the viewer. A relationship that develops over time, revealing new aspects with each return. That is why I work in series, exploring a theme from multiple angles before moving on to something else. Each series is an investigation. In a way, *La frontière de l’ombre*, *Partition*: these titles are not descriptions. They are invitations.

FAQ
What is an artistic approach, and what is its practical purpose?
An artist’s statement is a short text, written in the first person, that explains what an artist does, why they do it, and how they go about it. It serves to present their work to galleries, curators, residency selection committees, collectors, and the general public. It is the central document of any artist’s portfolio, the one that gives meaning to the images and helps viewers understand the work.
How does an artistic approach differ from a biography?
The biography traces the artist’s career: education, exhibitions, awards, and collections. The artistic approach, on the other hand, delves into the inner workings of the work. It explains what drives the creative process, which themes are explored, which techniques are used, and why. The two documents complement each other, but the artistic approach is more personal, more vivid, and often more effective in connecting with the viewer.
Why should you regularly update your artistic approach?
An artist’s practice evolves. Themes change, techniques become more refined, and influences shift. A profile that remains static over time no longer accurately reflects the artist’s current work. Updating it regularly—ideally every two or three years—allows the artist to stay in step with their own evolution, while also presenting a coherent narrative to professionals encountering their work for the first time.
How do gallery owners and collectors engage with the artistic process?
For a gallery owner, the artist’s artistic approach serves as a tool for engagement. It allows them to introduce the artist to their clients, write exhibition labels, and prepare press kits. For a collector, it gives meaning to the purchase: understanding what an artist is seeking allows one to form a deeper connection with the work. A well-written artist’s statement enhances the perceived value of the work and facilitates the decision to purchase.
An evolving artistic approach in 2026
In 2026, my artistic practice is, more than ever, a work in progress. It reflects where I am now, what drives me, and what I am still searching for. It does not claim to explain everything, because art that can be fully explained ceases to be art. It opens a door, and it is up to you to decide whether you want to step inside. To discover my entire body of work and explore the series that make up this body of work, I invite you to browse the gallery.