PERSONAL PATH
1979. After ten years in the world of engineering and computer, I had become a planning consultant. A consultant who had never considered devoting himself to an occupation he loved and could pursue for the rest of his life. I enrolled in a drawing class.
I started out doing portraits exclusively. Why? Because for me, portraiture represented a great difficulty. And, to quote Sri Aurobindo, the purpose of a difficulty is to make us evolve. In short, this is the means I used, thinking it would accelerate my development.
1982. Enrollment in a pastel portrait workshop in Woodstock, NY, under the guidance of Albert Handell. Handell recommended the use of abrasive paper as a support for pastel. This support accepts several layers without fixative. Executed in this way, pastel becomes another medium. I definitely adopted this practice.
Workshop in Woodstock. Day 1: Albert asks me to focus on the values by squinting. Nothing happens. Day 2: He asks me again. Nothing happens. Day 3: He asks me again. The trigger is, the subject becomes a screen onto which I can project shapes. I discover that visual sensitivity isn't crystallized forever, it can change. I leave engineering behind. I become a full-time painter.
1983. I enter a new field while retaining my engineering instinct : I have to understand what I'm doing. I like real solutions to real problems.
My experience with abrasive support for pastel pushes me to learn more about mediums and supports. I read Ralph Meyer's "Artist Handbook." In addition to pastels and watercolor, I adopt egg tempera on traditional gesso and encaustic.
1985-88. For four years, I participated in the annual exhibition of the Pastel Society of America in New York. On three occasions, I won an award with a portrait.
1986. In search of guidance for finding a gallery, I delve into the biography and writings of Daniel-Henry Kahnweiler, a major art dealer and defender of Picasso. I discover that they were resolutely against abstraction and that Cubism is a misunderstood phenomenon. I subscribe to their ideas and am very surprised that no one has dared to attack Picasso on abstraction.
Now I also paint still lifes. Thus, I explore certain Cubist ideas: flat and colorful architecture, contrapuntal structures (Juan Gris), and anything that can enhance the painting as an autonomous object.
1986 to 1993. Three solo exhibitions at the same gallery.
1993. Wilhelm Worringer's book, Abstraction and Einfühlung, fell into my hands. Impressed by the power of this text, in which Worringer argued that abstraction is an instinctive response to a world perceived as threatening and that it lies at the origin of the great styles—Egyptian, Greek, and Gothic. I discover aesthetics as a science of form.
On abstraction, Worringer cracks the aesthetic edifice of the Cubists. Convinced that Kahnweiler had responded to Worringer, I sought and found his answers. They leave me unsatisfied.
The discovery of the Worringer-Kahnweiler conflict challenged me and coincided with the break with my gallery, which had not shared my growing commitment to aesthetic research. This break was to have lasting consequences for my presence in the gallery world.
I was consumed by this research on aesthetics. I combed through the writings of Worringer and Kahnweiler.
2001. First meeting in seven years with the gallery director. Our positions remained unchanged. After this last meeting, the gallery, without my knowledge, put two of my paintings up for auction in Toronto, including a self-portrait renamed: Portrait of a Young Man. I had never exhibited in Toronto.
I became aware of this event three years later and experienced the fragility of artistic identity in the face of the dictates of the art market.
My research remains a stimulating and enriching experience.
At the same time, to relax my mind, I do something I'd never done before: landscapes. I can indulge in the rendering of textures.
Whether it's a landscape, a still life, or a portrait, when I finish a painting, I often discover elements—animals, people—embedded in the composition. Curiously, these forms have nothing to do with the subject I had originally intended to depict. It's as if my unconscious is manifesting itself to my conscious awareness.
I wrote and rewrote an essay. I wanted to clarify my thoughts. I remain dissatisfied. I feel like I'm holding on to something important like I'm close to a goal that's slipping through my fingers.
2012. While surfing the internet, I discovered the existence of an English translation of the work of the predecessor who influenced Worringer It was "Spätrömische Kunstindustrie" by Alois Riegl. This work, published in German in 1905, was translated into English in 1985 and published by a Roman publisher specializing in antiquity. By a happy coincidence, I often go to Rome, thanks to a Roman friend, Giandomenico. A friendship dating back to the Polytechnic. I am captivated by Riegl's ideas. His central idea: the unresolved difficulty contains the seeds of future evolution. This perfectly aligns with my thinking. I better understand what I saw in Rome.
2014. Synchronicity: Appearance of a French translation of the same work. The Late Roman Art Industry, Éditions Macula. This publication confirms the value of the ideas revealed, and which I had anticipated, by the Worringer-Riegl tandem.
After poring over Riegl's writing, I am disconcerted to realize that Worringer did not understand Riegl. Everyone considers Worringer to be Riegl's successor, including Kahnweiler. Moreover, his book has been translated into several languages and has been the subject of numerous reprints.
My search is relaunched. The conflict between abstraction and figuration has been transposed into the explanation of the causes of the evolution, or the cessation of this evolution, of the visual arts. Why? Because one cannot build anything valid on a misinterpretation of the art of one's predecessors.
2025. Excluded from the gallery world for thirty years, I recently lost my appeal to the Quebec Ministry of Revenue. I had to pay $7,400 after claiming a tax refund (GST and QST) for my studio rent, on the grounds that my business as a painter is not profitable. Neither Revenu Québec nor the RAAV deemed it necessary to consult a visual arts expert before making their decision. The numbers speak for themselves. Conducting artistic research is not profitable.
Yet, despite these obstacles, I continue to explore and experiment. I’m too old to change. My goal is to complete this research and to explain how we have come to this point. Contemporary art is an exact reflection of today's society: a society that pollutes and threatens the survival of humanity.