When I grapple with earthenware, marble or bronze in order to release the gracious shape of a woman, as is my habit, I give way to what I know, to what I sense of her own happiness and of the one she experiences in her relationship with man. As a sculptor, I am a woman-related man, the seat of desires and dreams, one awake with dawns, with fogs and nights; I keep addressing her, matching her; the eventual sculpture is thus dissymmetrical, since she prevails in it, and so does her most comely shape. I know my sculpture is off reality, and I liable to be reproached with not giving account - as other forms of contemporary art do - of today´s various types of violence and distress. Although I care about medias, I remain aloof from them; I like giving an expression of love, of genuine dreams that support the lust for life. As Yves Bonnefoy put it, let us help “child, man and woman in the process of being born to themselves perceive what can be loved, what should be loved, what is right : when literature (sculpture) does not try to focus on sense and values, it only endorses nonsensicality”.
(Translated by Michèle Bustros)