Philippe croq artiste peintre de la galerie 22


Sometimes in the morning, we look for the elements of a dream to reconstitute it. It comes back to us in bits and pieces, fragments, traces, scratches... It is at the same time exactly that and something is invented in a constantly interrupted is diluted too quickly...the images are diffracted...a word emerges but the weight of the discontinuity tears its meaning apart... Philippe Croq starts us off with his pictorial proposals. Is there anything to say in the composition of these fragments? Everything seems to be posed but nothing is formulated. A self appears where the double disappears. Often shadows, traces and reflections are drawn in a confusion of contradictory interests. Then, thus invited, the visual sensation of parcels of lived truths strikes us.

But let us not be mistaken, her paintings are very constructed in their deconstruction. Sometimes a vertical tends towards a balance just to whisper a colour. He knows how to establish a horizontal, at the edge of the trembling, of the dividing line between a word, a sound, a vibration, a smell, a shiver, a shattered hatred. Through small signs, snippets, lines and tints, he articulates his universe. As a result, we find ourselves dreaming again and again...thus reconnecting with our early nocturnal dream suddenly actualized.

Such an approach requires a listening that moves forward. Such an approach requires a listening that advances on a fragile or even distended thread on the breaking point. Are we somewhere in what he gives us to see? His stirring attempts to avoid meaning, weaving spider threads, blurred grids, traced edges propel him jubilantly into a possible resurrection. His apparitions of sketched, ghostly bodies and strange faces seem to slide by with no other weight than their despair. Yet in this apparent emptiness dialogue (in spite of itself?) fleeting hues, interrupted melodies, discordant chords...

We know deep down that it happened to us too. Having acknowledged this, the artist invites us to cross the threshold of a lost world together... to strip it further before hypothetical reconstructions.

Yannick Lefeuvre