L’histoire de l’art se tisse de mouvements, et le mouvement appartient lui aussi à l’histoire de l’art, bien avant les essais de chronophotographie. Dans les sculptures, à l’évidence, depuis l’antiquité, mais aussi dans la peinture. Pas seulement en référence à la transcription du bougé, de la vitesse, ou de l’élan. De la peinture à la toile, le peintre a un geste. Il l’ajuste comme le danseur ajuste le sien. Il perçoit aussi de manière instinctive l’espace à peindre et le chemin du pinceau. Il en acquiert une conscience aussi fine que celle qu’il a de son corps.
Movement is at the heart of creation. Where our individual and collective perception of reality often stultifies it, even if this only lasts the time requires to embrace it, the world around us is in perpetual motion: celestial bodies, tectonic plates, stones, animals, plants, cells, particles. Motionlessness does not appear to exist. Indeed death itself is perhaps impulsed by life, devouring itself and engendering fresh creation out of its own ruins.
The scene takes place in painter Silvère Jarrosson’s workshop. At the end of a day spent giving life to a linen canvas coated with a succession of acrylic paint layers. Hours spent alternating between dismay and enthusiasm, the banal and the sublime. Then back. And back again.
I spent time wondering how one could speak about art. Does commenting on an artpiece merely involve analysis, establishing bearings, or perhaps penning a description? At stake before my eyes is no less than the creation and revelation of the universe: chain reactions, chaos, sliding, running puddles, cracks, posturing, power grabs, reversals. As many constellations are born under my eyes as there are butterfly wings. Foam here, marbling there…
Despite having emerged practically at the beginning of the twentieth century, abstract painting’s journey is still very much ongoing. This is underpinned by its influence on the younger generation—despite the temptations on offer from the digital world, and other transient artistic scenes.
Silvère Jarrosson’s choices, training, and natural affinities all designate him for inclusion in the category of younger artists who know there is more to be learned from the unknown than from the self-evident. Yet while his compositions never strive to equate the visible world, they are underpinned by a specific reality, clearly impacted by very worldly tribulations.
Some will speak of Silvère’s painting as “abstract”—as opposed, presumably, to figurative. But it is very down to earth, very rooted in matter. Silvère’s painting is a painting of exploration, that embraces the cosmos, thought and the mystery of the unspeakable. It is constantly evolving, feeding on all sorts of biological phenomena, both physical and dreamlike, through which it pursues its own trajectory. The seven successive series of his work, from “Rythmes vitaux” to “Élégies”, are the best way to take the measure of its diversity.
Silvère Jarrosson embarked on a painting career in answer to a calling that witnessed him suddenly realising “that’s what I want to do!”, as he discovered a friend’s pictorial work. What, Painting? Yes, painting. Nothing at the outset destined him to become a painter. He had trodden an entirely different path—being destined to become an étoile dancer When he had to face the impossibility of continuing in that direction, he started reading biology as an undergraduate. That was when he discovered painting as a vocation. From that point onwards, he put himself to work, fired by a boundless passion, and never strayed from his chosen path. He became what he had at that moment understood to be, painter.
Silvère Jarrosson’s third exhibition at Galerie Hors-Champs showcases the latest trends on which his previous experience so soundly prepared him to embark. Shapes—abstract, mineral and reptilian, celestial and granular—morph yet further in a never-ending set of variations and shades, a body under construction, continuing unbroken where his previous work left off.
One wonders whether this body is ‘growing’, since he refuses to put names on what his work could potentially represent: in any event, it is constantly evolving. The technique is the same: before the dripping process, Silvère Jarrosson prepares his canvas according to a process pretty akin, according to him, to subduction […]
Silvère Jarrosson invents a torsion-filled universe. This is due, above all, to the technique used by the artist: he slides a coat of white paint under a coat of coloured paint, and the latter deforms the former, through something very much akin to telluric motion. Various matters joust against one another in a magmatic substance, yet they never merge; the relief impressed on the artist’s paintings is quasi-metallic. Bodies appear to creep along, without their true significance being discernible, since everything seems to become shapeless and glistening. Acrylic paint is the raw foundation of this action painting process, which harkours back to the prehistories of chemistry, as well as to post-modern experiments where the image seems virtual.
This is the story of a boy who draws.
Who once said to his parents: “I would like to dance.”
As he was gifted for Ballet, the boy enters the Opéra de Paris.
But repeating his first role as soloist – this feast of flowers in Genzano that Nureyev interpreted – he is seriously injured.
It is the story of a dancer who suffers in silence.
A wounded boy who goes up on stage, and wakes up in an emergencies room.
Generalized infection: pretty close to death.
Real births are renaissances.
Silvère Jarrosson saw the day at eighteen, with an idea in mind: painting.
For his first monographic exhibition, “In Utero”, Silvère Jarrosson consolidates his pictorial universe, which becomes a psychic cartography. It turns out to be a unique visual journey, a half-way house between a geological exploration and looking though a microscope.
WHile the map is well drawn, the territory is still undefined, and deliberately so. That is because this territory enjoys shirking, as the painting frees itself from the clutches of Jarrosson’s suspended brush, moving in a panel of evocations uniting opposites (the infinitely large versus the infinitely small, but also the carnal versus the inert), leading them in quite another direction.
Silvère Jarrosson’s work involves a quite remarkable pictorial journey, in which abstraction is torn apart by turbulent projections. The artist uses pollockian dripping, releasing the capillarity of the acrylic paint he uses to develop his colourful turbulence.
Production breaks forcefully free of traditional pictorial abstraction, and gives birth to a form of non-figurative art—a celebration of spontaneous movement.
Space defines a place in which a new, changing, visible and invisible life is created. In the work of Silvère Jarrosson, the main space is defined as a choreography—a tribute to his years as a dancer at the Opera and to his university training—each implementing precise, “aerial” and spontaneous movements. Each splash of matter lands in the right place on the canvas. The pictorial material rattles about, erecting a world niether in nor out. It aims to create a new nature. The visible, through pictorial flesh seeks to reach and to hang out the bundaries of the invisible, of the imaginary and of human unconsciousness. The matter dances, vibrates ,and the spectator creates his own space with his anxieties, his joys, and his desires,