Official Website: http://marcbourlier.com
Born in Saigon , he then spent his youth between Africa, South America , Asia again where Pondicherry, predestined , no doubt , some reincarnation ? .. But as well, after so many landscapes and light through, she has formed and there is no doubt allowed his taste for color. This is what he said , immediately after much admired Calder , Miro , Braque, Léger, when he became a painter. Iris Clert , first showed his “spots” and research on the infinity of the task , one that already Leonard wanted as Supreme Work … Does not mean that the young artist has left the matter there at random; following Action painting of the time. No. He leads the randomness of material that slides to give some plausibility to give him face, face, infinite effect of all these men he worked alongside these men of color that made him discover the world, to who , while he seeks his own identity. Drowned in too many colors , intoxicated colors, to have it followed Baudelaire – ” Get drunk , wine, poetry or virtue, as you wish ” – he suddenly sucked some rest. Then appeared gray souvenir ladies tender grandmother ? But they also invaded his life, and in a stunning painted wood carousel Iris Clert presented at FIAC 1985 – Bourlier not thirty years , these insolent and timeless silhouettes and vanished escaped him forever to reach , perhaps a cartoon universe where they seemed to have mysteriously emerged. In 1986 it shows in Brussels , an incredible series of figures of stars , imaginary , but too ” decorative “. Despite their success , he abandons when he suddenly became aware and began a long period of almost ten years of work on corrugated cardboard , and succeed the ” phonograph ” and ” icons ” as much carefree and joyful signs where color always takes pride of place . If radically new in its implementation , what today we know Marc Bourlier seems to be the result of a random enchanted, a happy day in 1995 when on a beach in Normandy his eye was caught by the first of these mysterious small driftwood as the sea, tirelessly , and such an offering was filed. The gesture of appropriation that his curiosity aroused mark the transition from artist to not color in the third dimension , or in the “almost” third dimension : Bourlier , it is no longer a painter, is not so fast sculptor. The only point which remains to him then mark center always the human element at the heart of his new approach : to be born of his assemblages myriads of little men , wisely sequenced in tables where the material is given to the touch, where the asperities wood will only give an idea of the colors. But what sumptuous material, turn dull, soft or rebel who mocks us from distant origins , which, after what the world has failed there, at your fingertips , because it was time to ask that his destiny made him accept this last stop , to meet the sea, the earth, and next to a magnet artist. At this stage of its creation, Bourlier or painter or sculptor , is the poet who transcends poor waste into glorious little characters . He imagines turn tender or funny, sad or agreed , and makes them live in families that composed with great care as to ward off the chance that , in fact, decided everything . Gradually , they grew bolder , and appear alone escaped from the low relief , such real round bumps ! They say , swashbuckling ithyphallic , dreamer , beautiful indifferent , seductive … Hardly can you feel the intervention of the sculptor : a light scarification, a point of digging, and the expression arises from a minimal gesture , an addition ? Can then look easy anecdotal . Bourlier complaira not there much. The latest beautiful series sticks fertility magnifies its small beings like ourselves as the metamorphosis prophets bearers of hope who, from their gnarled stem, our future president . Bourlier remembered in Africa , youth clubs such plant for the sky profusion of crops , plenty of children? .. Today , in Paris, he perpetuates the act, that its creation is we pledge happiness.