I turn on the work switch. First of all, look for the historical news podcast which will allow me to listen to a story while warming up in a small A5 sketchbook. I pick up my reference book where I left it the day before: naturalistic plates of farm animals, a mushroom picking guide, technical drawings of American patents filed since 1900. I play with water, Indian ink, graphite pencil, charcoal, acrylic, chalk. I cause a happy accident, I don’t think about anything, I make a gesture, my subject is there. I will look more carefully at the result the next day. I work through evocations. First of all, find the music playlist that’s on my mind. Electro rhythm, 90s rock that takes me back to my adolescence, aggressive rap, bass rhythm. And I look for the image that is imprinted on my retina by its composition and its contrasts. Looking for photographic impressions, cinematic inspiration for staging. I am fascinated by American culture: its violence, the immediacy, the already nostalgic imprint. I love the power and speed of basketball matches. I select a few scenes and only print one in poor quality. The goal is to appropriate it so that it can be reinterpreted through drawing. I am looking for the evocation of an atmosphere, of a scene already seen which hides a (perhaps dark) story. I spread my roll of paper on the ground three meters, I put on my work clothes and my black socks. Based on this photo, I directly place my charcoal gesture on my paper unrolled on the ground. And there, the pure pleasure of the line, pleasure of the contrast and the accident caused. Bringing forth the light that permeates things. Create space with color and my black charcoal. Drawing like a bubble, a state of mind to escape from, like swimming in a swimming pool occupied by school groups but in an empty corridor.
Born in 1981, graduated in romance literature from ULB, books and images have been with me since childhood. My sisters arrived late and I grew up in the countryside where we escape through imagination. Studies relocated me to Brussels, where I was born. The city immersed me in the culture at hand and I became a bookseller. Devouring comics, immersing yourself in Anglo-Saxon novels, dancing in pop rock concerts, cultivating curiosity, everywhere and always: sharing all these discoveries was my daily life until the arrival of my son. After the cocoon of motherhood, the imperative of drawing asserted itself again, as in my childhood as an only little girl. School was my contact with outside life. So it was while visiting an end-of-year exhibition that I found myself drawn to Florimond Dufoor’s live model class: it was exactly where I wanted to get. But first I had to work, find my line, my writing and so that my drawing was no longer a happy accident but a natural reflex, devoid of any theoretical reflection on how to do it. So I followed the multidisciplinary courses of Chantal Coppieters, who, by taking me towards painting, made me feel my desire for line even more strongly. By finally joining Florimond Dufoor’s workshop at the Ixelles School of Arts, I found my place and the intuitive, direct, lively and visceral gesture. An internship with Ulla Hase taught me how to set up a work ritual, another with Marie France Bonmariage in lithography taught me the pleasure of physical contact with the material to be drawn. Next year will be my last year as a student at the School of Arts. I have completely changed career path and I hope that my investment contributes to the active life of the school.