Holy Death Print

I was born on December 20, 1965 in Dakar (Senegal). I spent my childhood in French Guiana and arrived in Toulouse at the age of six. At 18, I went to Paris to study anthropology at the Sorbonne. In 1989 I went to live in Mexico, in Cholula in the state of Puebla where I continued my studies of anthropology at the University of Las Americas. The Department of Anthropology located next to the Department of Fine Arts, I befriended a group of young artists and discovered a passion for painting. I have started a parallel activity of painter and my first exhibition (collective) maked noise because I framed my paintings with plush of bright colors. The primary colors are my trademark as well as freedom of the line, expressionist movements and fauvism my first love … It is in 1993 during a stay in Paris that will begin an uninterrupted dialogue … There was this year the mega exhibition at the Musée d’Orsay: From Cézanne to Matisse. Masterpieces from the Barnes Foundation. The queue started right out of the subway and it was therefore in the middle of a huge crowd that I struggled to see the paintings of my first mentors. However, I left with a loud heart, a kind of indigestion of art whose date of expiry had lapsed. The next day I bought the Officiel des Spectacles in search of I do not know what when I came across this pithy line: Jean Michel Basquiat, African-American painter who died at the age of twenty-eight from an overdose. Museum of Seita. It was more like the biography of a jazz musician than of a painter. Pim pam poum, uppercut to the chin, hook to the liver, technical Knock out. For the first time in a long time I felt in my time and that of tomorrow. After the indigestion of the Musée d’Orsay I began a long rumination which did not bear fruit until three years later when I returned to France. The dialogue continues.