EUR

Atelier

The Worshop

I create at home, under the rooftops of Paris, in an 18-square-metre space, without toilets.
It is both a studio and a living space, shaped at once by the concrete demands of everyday life and by the more imperious demands of creation.

Working in this way involves constraints, renunciations, and constant adjustments. Yet these are sacrifices I undertake with joy, because they allow me to pursue my creative gesture, to remain faithful to it, to give it the conditions to exist despite the narrowness, the discomfort, and the material limitations.

In this reduced space, nothing is completely separate. Life, work, fatigue, research, materials, garments in progress, images to be produced: everything intersects, everything coexists.

To create here is to make each constraint the very framework of creation. It is to work with what is there and to let this reality become active within the process.

Even the dilapidated corridor of my building becomes an extension of the studio. It sometimes serves as a photo studio, first out of necessity, but also because everything can become a pretext for creating. What surrounds the work eventually enters into it, and becomes part of its language.

I studied at art school for five years.
My practice there was primarily performance-based, bringing together sculpture, costume, music, text, image, and dance.

The history of the total work of art, as well as that of the arts in their entanglement, holds an important place in the way I think. I have never considered a form as an isolated territory, but rather as a point of encounter, tension, and circulation between several modes of presence.

Today, garment creation constitutes the main structure of my practice, its backbone. It is what holds everything together, what gives it its most direct, most embodied, most constant form.

Around it gravitate other forms, gathered in the section Fragments. Texts, images, performances, peripheral presences: so many satellites that extend this central axis, animate it, embellish it, and sometimes also protect it.

These forms are not secondary. They arise from the same breath, the same imaginary world, the same necessity. They compose a sensitive environment around the garment, without ever taking away its central place.