We envy such a man, his passion, his verve with his southern accent, his rage for life, his joy of travel and especially of the encounters which irrigate his paintings.
Hallucinated postcards of his destinations at the end of the world and the shocks they cause in his retina and his brain.
He arrives this Friday morning at his exhibition in Beaubourg at the end of assembly, remembers very precisely having met you seven years ago, resumes the conversation in the same place – “Do you remember this donation project to the Center Pompidou?
» – and speaks at a speed that makes questions difficult.
You just need to intervene very slightly like the movement of a rudder aboard a boat on a river to direct its flow or its flow, and to listen to it.
Nourished by comics, the leader of free figuration in the 1980s made his mark.
And even met Jean-Michel Basquiat in New York, where he lived in the midst of the explosion of this new painting.
Basquiat, he came back: “I had gone to the United States to get heroin and he was completely into it.
We didn't really get to know each other.
I was closer to Keith Haring, who encouraged me.
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