The old stones
In this post I'm going to tell you about a passion... crobard... this term which popularizes rapid drawing has always been one of my particular affections in the artistic field. It is an integral part of a form of visual testimony transcribed quickly and which calls upon this keen sense of observation to retranslate reality onto paper or digital media.
The sketch, crobard or crobard to better crobard applies to a multitude of situations in various skills. I recently discovered that in the strategy to fight the fire at Notre Dame de Paris cathedral, certain firefighters were specialized in this function of drawing up quick sketches of the place to allow us to define the best approach and put the emphasis on sensitive or dangerous areas.
In an era where technology and other drones and robots are part of our existence, it is quite disturbing to verify the relevance of the sketch to communicate the morphology of a space. Trained in architecture and moreover an integral part of a generation where hand drawing was the only means of expression, the crobar despite my passion for new technologies has always remained a privileged tool that I defend with firmness and who knows how to give me unfailing motivation both on a sheet of paper and on a tablet.
In my daily life, sketching retains a privileged dimension and posture in all my forms of communications. My satisfaction has always been in contemporary art, the creation and expression of a complementarity between the old and the new. The preparation of my paintings is first done through sketching, and it is therefore with a very singular necessity that certain walks or urban wanderings are embellished with sketches illustrating a site.
The affection for the old or old stones is not the driving force behind these rapid drawings but the pleasure of savoring the morphology of certain places and the interlocking of these according to their complexity of implementation. Three particular tools, which I alternate anarchically, are an integral part of my kit: the bic pen, the felt-tip pen and the quill. Both impose the tempo and the assurance of a layout which is not haphazard and thus allow the sketch to be finalized with satisfaction.
For my part, the first three lines indicate to me without complacency whether I should use a new sheet as if I were looking for a perfect match between the support and the nib. These sketches are both a classic vision of an existing heritage with a very linear treatment which seeks to reproduce existing shading and textures in a contemporary manner.
It is sometimes difficult to understand yourself and find meaning in certain postures. This recurring need to draw old stones undoubtedly refers to the many holidays of my childhood spent in my grandmother's village house, and where I constantly imagined modifying and improving it, while retaining the the complex spirit of this maze of interlocking spaces.
Sometimes I surprise myself while drawing by imagining these same calibrated decorations with a singular covering as with a translucent contemporary adornment identical to resin inclusions. The three tools mentioned above make it possible to bring this dimension of transparency to the whole while retaining a classicism specific to the illustration of these old buildings which make up many of our villages or cities. I invite you to better discover certain drawings made in pen and in particular the last one… good discovery!
