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abstraction or extreme concentration,
followed by a liberating explosion?
the painting of H.uman
has nothing to do with slowness or excessive thinking;
it is rather born in a flash,
an instinctive grasp, of a blaze, a sound, a gust of wind,
a sandstorm, a bubbling of foam.
the artist in a rush, anxious not to release
this rich and captivating instantaneity,
this creative energy of a gesture that wants to conquer, without delay,
the complex matter of the vision and its sparks,
all its secret intensity.
using a powerful palette
sometimes riddled with contrast pigments,
the painter takes hold of his subject,
he scrubs his canvas with the fever, the delight
that one can also find in a jam session, in the free,
in a music of colour and breath
that excites you in turn and makes you thrill in front of
the violence of the beauty.
a rough and burning beauty, interpreted
in all its agitation and ecstasy.
grey is not absent in his compositions:
it is everywhere, whipped, swept, turned over and over
and at the same time supporting the reds, the blues, the greens
emerging like bolides and striking it with jubilation.
one thinks of the motion blur photography, the minimal abstraction
practised by Gerhard Richter, or even the hachures
of Soulages, but one always returns to the music,
to the flood, the rush of the notes, to the coarse exuberance
of Coltrane or Coleman, to the brass fieriness
of the saxophones launched to the top of free solos;
if there is a physical painting, it is that one, that stuff:
a painting of the movement, the rhythm, the Dionysian leaping
in the hustle and bustle of the world.
a free painting, which comes and goes wherever it wishes, provided
the brush or the palette knife or the sowing hand finds
something to see and to dream of, to hear,
because here all senses are invited.
this is total synaesthesia:
we listen to the blue as to the wild whistling of the wind,
we touch the red as it burns like the flow of dusk
we smell the yellow as if it was fruit peel.

H.uman reinvents the feast, the upset of the senses,
he covers our walls with a blazing poem of passion
and lust for life


                                                                      Michel Ducobu

                                                                      poet, writer, playwright, art critic

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