Chrome
Memory

To dialogue with art history is not to visit a mausoleum. It is to touch the very structure of the visible.

In this series, I do not cite; I extract. Monet’s vibration, Da Vinci’s sfumato, Gauguin’s framework—I retain only the quintessence to fuse it into my own vocabulary: that of absolute form.

Where Impressionism sought to capture the fleeting moment, my work seeks to capture the enduring one. I have not fossilized these scenes; I have transmuted them. Under my brush, the water lilies no longer wilt, the Mona Lisa’s smile becomes architecture, and scenes of life turn into silent totems.

The choice of a monochromatic and metallic treatment is not aesthetic; it is ethical. It retains only the essential: light, shadow, and volume. Yet, one must step closer to understand.

The surface is not mute. From the depths of the steel emerge chromatic specters, subtle remnants. A bluish vibration lurking in the shadow, a faint warmth in a reflection. Here, color is no longer an ornament; it is a memory trapped in cold matter.

This exhibition is an invitation to rediscover the iconic, but stripped of noise, polished by the hand, and restored to the essential.

This is not a look backward. It is the memory of the future.