黑料不打烊

We should immediately be reminded by this image, that before their installation in the Mus茅e de l鈥橭rangerie, the huge panels of the Water Lilies were at one time envisaged as the d茅cor of a salon or even 鈥渇or some function room or other.鈥� Monet鈥檚 鈥渁quarium in bloom鈥� would thus, no doubt, have been discreetly but wonderfully effective in fostering a festive atmosphere, enchanting our bodies and putting us in a party mood. Am茅lie Bertrand, born in Cannes, her own works having recently been exhibited at l鈥橭rangerie, envisages her painting from a similar perspective: a painting is worth seeing, not so much for its subject matter or its composition but rather for the atmosphere it projects. There鈥檚 not a single detail, not a square centimeter of her paintings that doesn鈥檛 exude a particular ambience. One notices moreover, that from one painting to the next, there is almost a systematic allusion to an aquatic element: a pond, a pool, a marsh鈥� Her painting invites a certain cerebral and physical inclination, a sense of floating.

It could be a sort of visual equivalent to ambient music, a genre about which Brian Eno wrote 鈥淥ne of the aims of this music is to enhance the space in which it is heard. Rather than captivating the listener, it creates a particular mood.鈥� Ambient music, which emerged in the 1970s, is a distant descendant of Erik Satie鈥檚 furniture music and distinguishes itself through the sophistication of its production and the extensive use of artificial sounds. The genre grew exponentially alongside the development of computers. In fact, Eno composed the start-up and shut-down jingles for the early Windows operating systems. For many, including the author of these lines, these few notes remain associated with our amazement at the first color computers, their artificial luminosity and their desktop backgrounds, whether gently psychedelic or in the form of landscapes.

Am茅lie Bertrand likes to point out that her practical introduction to art took place at the same time as her first exposure to computers. In the late 1990s, she and her father discovered the infinite possibilities offered by Photoshop of image manipulation. This initial fascination is reflected in the painter鈥檚 insistence on only using CS3, an old, obsolete version of Photoshop for her compositions. Thus, the tool she uses for drawing remains resolutely linked to a particular era, associated with the jubilation of her first successful experiments.

Her use of this software allows her to repeat a particular motif in profusion: neon lemons, artificial flowers, water lilies, wire fencing鈥� Without too obviously touching on it, it鈥檚 easy to detect a few allusions to the history of art: in addition to Monet, we can look to Andy Warhol for the flowers, perhaps Dan Flavin for the neon or Piet Mondrian for the grids / fencing in the background. A series of works with a somewhat carnal and, in some cases, downright erotic dimension. Her latest exhibition at Semiose Gallery sees Am茅lie Bertrand add a new motif to her repertoire, that of the bulrush or cattail: these 鈥渇alse reeds,鈥� characterized by their oblong seed-heads that wave in the breeze. And in this instance, we can鈥檛 help thinking of the blps created by the American artist Richard Artschwager (1923-2013), a form he scattered around exhibition spaces in a variety of different sizes, designed to draw the public鈥檚 eye to its surroundings. A sort of cartoon version of institutional criticism. The reason we鈥檝e always had a soft spot for the blps is, first and foremost, the variety of materials used: wood, rubber, hairs鈥� Am茅lie Bertrand is far from indifferent to this haptic dimension. This is evident in this series of false reeds, whose semi-rigid yet crumbly texture can be 鈥減erceived鈥� through the velvety surfaces of her paintings鈥攊t鈥檚 worth noting in passing that the fluffy fiber of cattails is used as filling for Japanese futons.

These iconographic elements alone are however insufficient to convey the particular feeling that runs through these paintings. We need to say a few more words concerning the remains of brick and concrete buildings, empty of any presence. In Am茅lie Bertrand鈥檚 earlier paintings, these abandoned structures had the eerie quality of the liminal spaces that have recently appeared on the Internet: Backrooms, hotel corridors, children鈥檚 playgrounds鈥� More recently, this absence seems to have been filled and soothed by luminous vapors. We are reminded of the hallucinatory paintings of Salvo (1947-2015)鈥攖he Italian painter became a master at giving the most pastoral landscape a feeling of artificiality. Am茅lie Bertrand, however, evokes the d茅cors staged on the record sleeves of certain electronic music pioneers. Repetitive, anonymous and generally uncopyrighted, this music from the 1970s-80s has been revived by the vaporwave genre, a musical and visual artistic movement that emerged via the Internet around 2010. There are now a number of spaces dedicated to hosting long passages of synthetic sounds.

Likewise, Am茅lie Bertrand鈥檚 painting is ready to be 鈥渁mbiently accompanied.鈥� We might also add that the presence of chains could transform the motifs into jewelry, glittering finery to compliment made-up faces and evening outfits. The paintings are tinged with the mounting euphoria of the upcoming night and party. 鈥淲e鈥檒l set off鈥︹�� wrote Clemenceau. No doubt the use of this phrasal verb made me imagine a secretly formulated desire for a nocturnal escapade. 鈥淲e鈥檒l get in the mood鈥�,鈥� he might have written today.