« Tropic system », Agence Archy, Paris
2013 « Contes créoles », Conservatoire à Rayonnement Régional, Paris
2016 « Laure Bréaud », Galerie Alain Margaron, Paris
2012 « Géographies nomades », exposition des félicités, ENSBA, Paris
2012 « Métamorphoses animales », Nuit européenne des musées, musée de la Chasse et de la Nature, Paris
2014 « Progress Gallery », Progress Gallery, Paris
2015 « Un parcours dans le temps », Galerie Alain Margaron, Paris
2015 « Formes biographiques », Carré d’art, Nîmes
1998 - 2003 Conservatory of Paris, Piano.
2003 - 2005 Hypokhâgne and Khâgne, Lycée Molière, Paris.
2006 - 2011 Received her Diploma in Visual Arts (DNSAP) from L'École Nationale Supérieure des Beaux-Arts de Paris, with Honors.
2010 Finalist of the Frescoes competition organized by the Civil Society of Multimedia Authors.
2011 Received a scholarship from the City Hall of Paris (Department of Art in the City).
Up until 2015 I traveled regularly, to be nourished by details of shining life, that of societies, groups and individuals far from home.
My musical training helped me to build methods of working which are more inspired by that of a musician than that of a Creator, in the romantic sense of the word. Humbly, religiously, I interpret what I love or I suffer to hear, music and the voice of the world.”
Today, Laure Bréaud continues her syncretic weaving between music, dance and imagery in her videos. She regularly practices drawing, writing, and painting which constitutes a second essential facet of her artistic activity.
The realism to which Laure Bréaud offers a plastic reflection is as anthropological and militant as it is poetical and musical.
Presentation of the Jean-François Chevrier Exhibition
“The notion video piece” rarely had more sense. Laure Bréaud’s first video Inoubliable sans nom (unforgettable and nameless) (2009) transcribes in images a piano piece by Sergey Rachmaninov, the sixth of Etudes-tableaux, op 33. The film discribes a walk in a prairie landscape, above the sea whipped by the wind. Just as the music is not only an accompaniment to the film, the visual and kinesthetic interpretation is not copy the musical movement. Music and silent images are mostly linked by a relationship of equivalence. The junction of the two registers requires poetic diction: the piece opens with the voice of Blaise Cendrars reciting a poem “Feuilles de route” (1924): Islands / Islands / Islands / Islands / where one never will take foot / Islands where one will never go / Islands covered with vegetation / Islands clothed like jaguars / Silent Islands / Unforgettable Islands without a name / I throw my shoes overboard because I want to go to you.
Laure Bréaud came to visual art through music, when she was obliged, for health reasons, to abandon the piano. She then converted to the traditional lyric medium which is the voice. She is particularly interested in the impact of the recorded voice in modern poetry. The change of scene practiced by poets is a necessary change of place for her between the disciplines. She hopes to be able to continue making music with other means. “I began painting in 2005, she says. Painting, for me, was first and foremost, to continue the practice of music and to say something.” Her apprenticeship in painting at the Ecole des Beaux Arts was accompanied by the practice of complex, free-style, and scholarly writing. Impregnated with the poetry and folklore of the Antilles because of family origins, she chose to write, or re-write stories and legends that were to become the living matter of her images, painted or engraved. She continued to practice illustration, but she now interprets preexisting texts.
Recently, she was inspired by an episode of “Mahabharata” the story of the princess Draupadi. After the men of her clan gave her away to settle a gambling debt, the princess becomes a slave, and is delivered to her masters. She calls on Krishna for help. The god transforms her sari into a piece of infinite cloth. Her aggressors pull in vain at all of the folds of her clothing. Eleven drawings form a sinuous composite image of the miraculous sari.
The Goya variations participate ostensibly in a practice of the interpretation. In an initial set of paintings, Laure Bréaud wanted to “continue the word of Goya, to enter into correspondence with gestures forever unknown to the master”. The recent drawings after the Caprices engravings, mix water color, ink, red wool and adhesive tape, are like exercises in an improvised interpretation. “The studio, she says, isn’t a concert or practice hall, or a school room. There isn’t an audience, nor a professor, nor an instrument to master. There is a composer, Goya, to interpret, my tools, and the morning light… Every morning I make my series of drawings to the rhythm of a heteroclite playlist I concocted. Every caprice corresponds to a piece of music that I can sing by heart.” Laure Bréaud works with music in an environment of rhythm, voices and movement, where the cultural differences and encounters are absorbed and transformed. She expresses empathy (in particular with those who suffer) a desire to share, but also her refusal and anger. “Happy body of sickness”.
Today she says she has vanquished her frustration at no longer being able to play the piano, because of her physical implication with painting, “by confronting,” she says “from head to foot the richness of pigments, the cutting edges of gouaches, the vitality of paint brushes and woodcarvings…. I am so stricken by the sense of touch and sight that I lose my voice.” She is on her way and deploys her travel plans. Each painting is perhaps an island. But unlike Cendrars navigator, she has touched ground to start up the game of imagination. The solitary space of her studio is inhabited by figures, myths, stories, legends, and recitations.
The exuberance of these painted fables is a graphic amplification, doubled by a symbiosis with the legendary beings, often blessed with heroic greatness. The monkey god Hanouman becomes a protective idol. The “Jouywax”, a combination of the African “wax” with the Jouy cloth (toile de Jouy), seems to abolish the distance between France and its former colonies. But the patterns on the printed cloth are replaced by traces of burlesque figures. This dimension of ornamental fantasy is omnipresent. On the black background of “Draupadi” one finds arabesques that remind one of costumes designed by Léon Bakst for Russian ballet. One also thinks of the “l’ornement des noces spirituelles” (ornament of a spiritual wedding) celebrated by Ruysbroeck.
Trained by the discipline of piano performances, Laure Bréaud accepts being subject to the intimidation of the masters, but she refuses to limit herself to exercises in good taste and elegance. She is too interested in popular forms of music and gestural performance, even the most dishonorable, those that perpetrate sexist prejudice – to subscribe to norms and programs of descriptive and decorative art. As wise as she is, her conception of ornament comes from a range of expression and movement; she demands poetical art, a literary painting, with no grammatical frontiers, where words can be transposed into chromatic values. An obsessive idea which corresponds to a vital necessity. “Faire corps” (incorporate), said Antonin Artaud. This involves the powers of speaking and gesture, or the gesture, the fable uttered, sung. Here oral matter carried by singing, the eternal alliance (or misalliance) appears in the drawing or the colors.
Jean-François Chevrier, May 2016
Contact : http://www.laurebreaud.net/travaux/