About

I am a painter, and my practice sits at the crossroads of painting and music.

Before painting, there was music. I began the piano very young, with a daily, almost imposed, practice. From my very first lessons I started to perceive sounds as colours. This phenomenon — synesthesia — has shaped my relationship to creation ever since. It led me to think of painting as a sensitive language, close to music: an ineffable language that acts directly on the emotions.

My painting seeks to translate that musical experience, turning vibration into matter, rhythm into gesture, the note into colour. As in music, each work is an attempt to seize the present moment. A painting is never reproduced identically — just as a musician can play the same score hundreds of times and never play it the same way twice.

My practice is polymorphous and unfolds through two pictorial languages. The first belongs to the lineage of the New York School, whose energy has always inspired and fascinated me. Here painting becomes a vital, immediate breath, where gesture, colour and rhythm unite in a structured synesthetic improvisation. Music guides the process: I paint what I hear, turning canvases and live-painting performances into an immersive experience.

The second language is defined by a strong materiality — plays of texture, effects of gloss. The matter is laid down, hollowed out, shaped. Depending on the theme, I embed fragments of text or of images drawn from photojournalism, so that trace and erasure coexist within the surface. It is essential for me to anchor the work in the real, with evidence and precise images, to bear witness to true events.

My series of musical paintings question human nature and our way of existing in a world shot through with the fractures of our time: the repetition of historical tragedies, systems of domination, and the fragility of freedoms. They explore memory, History — the true history, not the one rewritten in schoolbooks — identity, exile, relations of power, and our capacity to think and to act. They question, for instance, the nature of evil — the “banality of evil” that Hannah Arendt developed in Eichmann in Jerusalem (1963), a concept still debated today.

One of the aims of my painting is to awaken consciences and to warn the generations to come. The work is nourished by my own history, that of a family marked by exile, but it seeks above all to move beyond the intimate toward a universal reach.