| Artist : Christiane filliatreau
It is probably no coincidence that Christiane Filliatreau has chosen to set up her studio on a terraces carved on the side of the wall of the former strategic parade that crosses the Luberon. Here is the artist herself shaped by this landscape that she married and that suits her so well, anchored between the mineral with powerful shapes polished by time and the topsoil deposited here as a jewel to work with vigour and perseverance. If Christiane dedicates the blue of her eyes to her, this sharp look of high altitude beings that crosses her to the tips of her fingers, she draws from within herself the inspiration that feeds on ancient memories well beyond her childhood land: in the depths of a wadi in the Maghreb, alone away from maternal vigilance, she was already beginning to shape her kingdom.
The creative breath, in it, seems to draw from the deepest depths, but that the gestures of ordinary life serve and nourish again: between the pure sequences of creation, the lively hands could appear idle. On the contrary, they are busy, preparing the ground, dancing around the sink, tidying up, scraping the tables in the workshop. Signs of an intense concentration to feel how they will reach, will express as accurately as possible the idea that is tapping, announcing itself, imperative, doubt will only have place later. A gestation is at work….
It is not, however, a question of limiting ourselves to reading in Christiane’s work the obvious attributes of femininity and the hollow symbols associated with it, in order to realize that the artist is not satisfied only with this completeness or harmony through the bipolarity of the genres.
She seems to go even further, exalting her own feminine as a matrix, receptive, essential force in which her creative power originates. Accepting through his works, to go towards this essential part of his own metamorphosis. She tamed the hollow in her, went to meet her and married her. She often says “that her parts are technically hollow, but not empty.”
text by Myriam Boutrolle