Abstraction, writes the critic Michel Seuphor, his great defender, "is by no means the path of facility but that of pure creation, I would say, by giving the word its etymological meaning, of the invention of oneself. Contemporary artists are fascinated by it. Matter can everything.

She gives Arnaud Gautron's paintings an intense inner life. His gestures, his imagination, his moods are embodied in his material that he crumples, loads, energizes. From Pollock, he took the gesture to produce a shower of stars. He watched Kiefer and his great fields of memory. Like Fautrier he found a way to wrap the mystery in the wrinkled skin of his painting. Landscapes?

It smells of moisture. As in nature, the sunlight in a dense forest and dark in autumn, the heat caused by its reds and ochres radiates its bituminous blacks. The transparency of the water abounds, rain dripping on the windows: "The horizons flee to the east", he titles.

Sometimes a desolate heat seems to dry up the season. Suddenly everything freezes, the humid air, the mist envelops everything. Glacial, boreal, another of his paintings reminds me of Labrador from the sky. Another, liquid and viscous, seems to smooth out like the pink interior of a sea shell, the tritonis charonia.

Ghost landscapes, reincarnated lands, the dense and dark matter, and crumpled papers, cut out, its landscape passes landscapes, their bilious states, their melancholy, their phlegm, their drought, implode.
The four cardinal moods and the four elements of nature correspond. Nature and being seem to commune in a Hippocratic abstraction. Man in the landscape, the natural man, the artist, his dreams, his material, his substance: "When a reverie, when a dream is thus absorbed in a substance, the whole being receives a dream strange permanence. The dream falls asleep. The dream is stabilizing. It tends to participate in the slow and monotonous life of an element. Having found its element, it comes to melt all his images. It is materializing. It is "cosmoses". Writes Bachelard.

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