Texts

 

My practice is rebellious against systems, structures and formulas; it is adventuring through space, made up of ephemeral assemblages, of fragments, deheated materials, suspended, hung and taped into place. I work like I dream, performing slippage between shapes and words, painting in washes and cutting my lines all over again, continuously wondering how one thing can transform into another, how words are implied and what shapes stand for. My assemblages are elusive and indecipherable, as if codes were fading in them. This movement is linked to my native language which is a lost dialect.


Abstract trap?


"Starting from scratch" is an abstract shape unwinding itself, hung close to an anamorphic line and its unmatching shadow.
In my mind it is about a stirring line that comes across a role model. Whatever abstraction escapes, it plays in Art History a role model regulating cultural relations to spiritualism, materialism etc.
It first performs an XY that resists to narration but becomes in the end a sort of lightning rod for big narrativs. What a beautiful trap! The same happened to me here, I drew again and again an unwinding form until I emptied it from my intentions and once it was hung on the wall, I saw a book. Lose yourself and you might find you back?

Installing... dependent elements?

How independant is an artwork? I think that to contextualize an artwork the best is to watch the previous work and the next work because the only real context is the « life of the body of work », there lays an unexpected reconciliation between art and life.
The three works installed here are dependent, but they will get cut again, into a new story.
For now, you see: an eye made with a cut optical fiber cable and leather, a nose as a small wooden theater, and a mouth as a quirky heart.
And all I look for is their true mobility as a true inscription.

Frame gender disorder

«If I composed directly on the wall I would spend my days nailing, I would make so many holes that the wall would disappear!»
I work at the studio like I dream in a performatif way, I compose on the ground so that a simple kick can change everything. But whatever mess I go through, in the end it unravels from sculpture towards painting... towards the wall. When I hang it on the wall I get conscious and ambiguousity shows itself. What if the canvas held the projectional load of it?

Where do my readings go?

Everyone is made of others' ideas, borrowed ideas, stolen ideas, ideas forgotten in a bag... Who can get a grasp of it? (...)

Revue Ingmar, Subterranea, Camille Azaïs, galerie Florence Loewy, 2018


"What is a work of art, if not a constant negociation with colour, shapes, matter and meaning? If not a precarious line of time, passing from one frame to antoher through the artist? What does it mean to draw the first line? Lucille Uhlric’s three dimensional collage emerges temporarily from the chaos of various found and handmade materials. For Subterranea, they become seeds captures between the airs and the dark frame of an opened ground."

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