




Since arriving in France at the dawn of the new millennium, after training in painting at the Nanjing Academy of Fine Arts, LiFang (born in 1968) has developed a body of work in which the gaze is blurred in order to be better recomposed, attentive to that fragile moment when the figure unravels without disappearing entirely. Large juxtaposed areas of flat color, modulated according to variations in light, structure her compositions. Color emerges from juxtapositions, superimpositions, and outcroppings, creating an optical depth that slowly absorbs the captive eye.
In some ways, this patient work of fragmentation evokes the accelerated flow of our era, a world saturated with images where presence fades as it is exposed.
His recent paintings depict scenes of sharing and fulfillment, bodies of bathers exposed to the transparency of daylight, captured on the beach, at the water’s edge, whose iridescent reflections retain the diffuse warmth of summer. His oils oscillate between lightness and gravity, between sharp contours and trembling surfaces. What matters is not so much representation as perception, this way of inhabiting the world through the gaze, of feeling it alive before it fades away. In this interval between appearance and erasure, LiFang explores the very duration of the visible, a space where clarity becomes memory, where painting, through successive afterimages, remembers.
Far from any demonstrative virtuosity, the artist engages in painting that is imbued with quest and experience, attentive to his own inner self, a painting that does not seek to reproduce reality, but to capture its movement, its fleeting brilliance, its density. Bathed in light, half-blurred faces and silhouettes hark back to the founding hours of modernity, when figuration and abstraction were explored in the same continuity of vision.
Both expansive and rhythmic, the pictorial gesture combines the rigor of drawing with the freedom of an airy, lively touch, carried by a subtly tangy, colorful vitality. For the removal of representations, or at least their conversion into apparitions, supports an interweaving of subtle associations forged around reminiscences, thus bringing about an imaginary fabric shared by all: a feeling of lightness and freedom, redeployed into infinity, dissolved into immensity. LiFang thus conjures up a generic, almost limbic memory, generating images that seem to spring from memory alone. It is a suspended moment, both intimate and shared, that we are given the opportunity to prolong—so that the summery, floating freshness of wonder may linger, if only for a moment.












Inspired by his German roots, the Black Forest of his childhood, and the Baroque painting he spent so much time studying in Madrid, Cedric Le Corf is now giving shape to a dialogue he began several years ago with the landscape genre—not as a motif, but as a space to be entered, traversed, and fully experienced. From his home in Brittany, the artist explores the porous zone between the appearance of animals and their pictorial dissolution, where representation fragments to give way to an embodied sensation. What the canvas reveals is less a figure than a moving, pulsating presence, lurking in the strata of a material where oil becomes territory and the line becomes a threshold. It is there, in this interstice between figuration and abstraction, between muted violence and sylvan gentleness, that a more immediate, almost organic perception emerges. Dogs, deer, sometimes a paw, a flank, an ear, or antlers appear on the surface of the paintings. Sometimes only a trace, an animal flash, as if torn from movement. The eye believes it recognizes an identifiable scene, almost cynegetic, but it is rather the vision of a watchman, a fragmentary, lateral perception that manifests itself and echoes the figure of the jay, that bird-watcher of the forests. Here, the gaze does not aim to capture, but rather to perceive. And to paint is to become one with the unseen.
Nothing imposes itself, everything insinuates itself. Forms intertwine, recede, and ultimately dissolve in an exercise in camouflage. Something of Matisse emerges in this way of interweaving flat areas of color, in this sensuality of color conceived as layered material. Acid greens, soft and iridescent pinks, sometimes more muted shades, coming from the shadows—the palette is marked by the cycle of the seasons: nothing asserts itself and everything blends in among the foliage, branches, and other greenery.
A mutual absorption is at work and, as if through a pronounced symbiosis, the alert animal world becomes an integral part of the forest. Sandstone sculptures extend this reflection on interconnection. While porcelain once found its place at the heart of the wood, it is now these animal fragments that are integrated into the very flesh of these sculpted landscapes. And in the depths of the forest, it is a relationship of attention that Cedric Le Corf seeks to capture. It is a way of being there, intensely, without ever interrupting the momentum of life.









For Bastien Vittori, drawing is a way of exploring an image, a process for understanding what he has seen, what caught his eye during his travels, whether in a city, the countryside, a forest, or by the sea. He lets himself be carried away by a landscape until he is struck by a view of a field, by light streaming through a shed or turning into shadow, by a ray of sunshine catching on garbage bags or dancing on a rough sea. There is no hierarchy between subjects—only the poetic dimension counts—and the artist is opposed to any idea of series. The realm of possibilities is so vast that he refuses to draw the same subject twice, to lock himself into a systematic approach. Ideally, each drawing is a new subject, a new opportunity to approach a motif from a different angle. His approach reflects a way of engaging with reality through the body, matter, and touch. It is an affirmation of a point of view, of the positioning of the gaze. Or, if we take a slightly higher perspective, it raises the question of man’s place in the universe.
Through its distance from reality and the intention behind it, it transports us into the realm of the imagination. “The fundamental term that corresponds to imagination is not image, but imaginary. The value of an image is measured by the extent of its imaginary aura,” wrote Gaston Bachelard, an author whom Bastien Vittori often quotes. “Working from photography, I explore the interweaving of forms that I encounter every day: the transparency and shimmer of leaves, the mottled appearance of tree trunks, the silk of a garment. Everything coexists, intertwines, interlocks, touches. Drawing with charcoal means digging into shapes and their surfaces, digging by rubbing the page.” Although his starting point is photography, he never falls into photorealism. He keeps the overall composition, which allows him to free himself from the subject in a way, and really starts to look and call on his imagination. He draws his line on the paper, erases it, and starts again tirelessly, caught in a back-and-forth game of opposites between hiding and revealing, erasing and revealing, filling the surface and leaving empty spaces. The whites contrast with the blacks or blend into them. It is this accumulation that gives substance to his condensed charcoal drawings, close to the blacks of engravings. Very matte, very warm. “With this medium, you move more than you erase. I put my material on the sheet, then I move it, which ultimately creates movement through the accumulation of gestures.”







THE PAINTER BRINGS HIS BODY
Olivier de Sagazan’s work is protean in nature – drawings, paintings, sculptures, performances – but it is first and foremost characterized by its strong unity: from the drawings to the latest performances, something insists and a singular feeling emerges, where fear and exaltation, retreat and adhesion mingle, as if it were touching an obscure force within us and forcing us to look it in the face. We’re at the opposite end of the spectrum from the calm aesthetic satisfaction we derive from a work of art that, resting wisely within itself, is only there to be contemplated. We are torn from our quiet immanence, projected towards an other than ourselves within ourselves, an anonymous power that is in reality more ourselves than we, who were simply preparing to look.
With Olivier de Sagazan’s works, looking is never just looking: it’s being stripped of oneself and projected towards what is seen by a force of which all the works are in some way a concentrate; it’s being enjoined to plunge below the gaze to reach this living stratum where the distinction between spectator and spectacle, gaze and work, is erased, this anonymous layer that shatters the difference between consciousnesses and places.
[…]
So where is the work? What does it consist of? Not in gesticulation (dance) itself; nor in the faces it deposits; it is neither of a dynamic nor a plastic order, but at the suture of the two, or rather beyond their difference: at the very place of shaping or taking shape, of Gestaltung. Performance represents the elusive point where gesture becomes face, where dance takes (in) form; it stages the motor line that underlies all form, and in so doing accomplishes phenomenological reduction. In other words, through the mediation of clay, straw and pigments, the performer makes his own work, gives himself a figure by dancing: he is both the author of the work and its result, the puppet and the puppeteer.
[…]
There is obviously a demiurgic dimension to Olivier de Sagazan’s work, as he is fascinated by life, by the emergence of life, if it has ever arisen. It is this emergence that haunts his work, particularly in Transfigurations. It’s always a question of giving life, of placing oneself on the border between the living and the inert, in order to coincide – in what is undoubtedly a desperate attempt – with one’s own birth. Hence his fascination with corpses, which, “in a gesture of kindness”, “give us an image of the movement that has just left them”. Hence, too, the fact that some of his sculptures are reminiscent of this, as are the tragi-comic figures who punctuate the Transfigurations with their gaze-less stares. That’s why Olivier de Sagazan humorously writes that, at best, he only produces walking corpses, and that he himself becomes a corpse when he goes underground. But let’s not be mistaken about this approach, which in reality is anything but mortifying. It’s not so much a question of regressing life to a place below itself as, on the contrary, of highlighting the presence of life within that which seems devoid of it, thus erasing in one fell swoop the supposed boundary between the inert and the living. […]






Aurélie Deguest has an almost Donjuanesque relationship with painting. She sometimes feels like painting everything that comes into view. This is undoubtedly the protean nature of her gifts as a painter, which have enabled her to conquer with surprising ease all the techniques of this art, in order to honor most of its motifs and styles.
She is as ready to execute realistic portraits imbued with a poetic spirituality, as in her series “Femmes en prière” presented at the JUSTLX fair in 2022, as she is to assert a fully expressionist painting style, as in her latest solo exhibition Faces, at Loo & Lou Gallery in 2015. In addition to her mastery of drawing and color, the artist now extends her skill in this current series to the exploration of a matierist abstraction, the fruit of her new experiments with surfaces, of which she offers a sumptuous variation of textural effects and rhythm.
Far more than the blank canvas, it’s the imposing variety of all her pictorial arrangements that can arouse in her a form of intranquil vertigo: what to paint now? Since Deleuze, we know that “it would be a mistake to believe that the painter works on a blank, white surface. The entire surface is virtually invested with all kinds of clichés that must be broken”.
The artist is thus committed to a kind of pictorial reduction dear to the proponents of abstract expressionism, in order to return to the very object of his passion: painting.
The four works on show in the Loo & Lou Gallery studio are a radical rethinking of her approach: here, no frame, no title, no calligraphy, no space, no time, no object, no subject, no explicit drawing… Aurélie Deguest succeeds in forcing out of the surface of the canvas that which is not specific to painting alone, thus isolating the work from all external reference.
His paintings do not offer a distanced, illustrative or even landscape view of the aquatic element, but seem to plunge the viewer’s gaze into the elusive viscosity of deep water. Hence the Japanese character of some of his works, which may also evoke the spirit of Chinese painting, which philosopher François Cheng once said
The philosopher François Cheng once said that Chinese painting “grasps the world beyond its distinctive features and in its essential transition”.
To ward off the emptiness of a uniformly white background, she covers her canvas with a preparatory weft, sometimes using strips of black canvas to give a visual rhythm to her future composition.
At once meditative and materialistic, each composition can suggest the surface of water in the fluidity of its ceaseless surf, the imprint of a pachyderm’s skin or the moult of a reptile, the telluric folds of a concatenation of cooled lava. The epidermis of the earth and the memory of the stars, the canvas also takes on the appearance of a bewitched tapestry, enveloping in its infinite folds a layer of canvas mixed with the thickness of dried paint.
The surface of the painting becomes embossed with the crevices of a stellar landscape, criss-crossed by eruptive ridges and crevices.
By abandoning the idea of framing and stretching his canvases on a stretcher, the artist finally frees himself from the symbolism of an over-codified painting, still in the grip of an image-making function too bloodless for his taste.
Hence her need, perhaps, to confront this “night of logos”, of which the poet Francis Ponge spoke, by establishing black as the dominant color in her works, which she subtly balances with counterpoints of earthy, bluish white, evoking both the genesis of the world and its apocalypse.
The nocturnal tone of Aurèlie Deguest’s canvases sometimes hints at evanescent forms, like the specter of Ophelia. This painting, then, seems to play out in the obscure in-between of matter and dream, presence and absence, plunging its wandering shadows into the depths of the waters of the Styx, which legend has it carried departed souls to the realm of the dead.
In choosing to set her painting in the nocturnal atmosphere, the painter is surely aware that night is also that pathos conducive to all rebirths. Novalis called night the “place of revelations” (Offenbarungen), in which the germ works in the maternal depths of the earth, preparing for its advent into the light.
Doesn’t the painter transform black into a luminous color, creating a sumptuous variation of light effects through the matte and gloss of her outrenoirs? To this end, the paint is often enhanced with gloss to perfect the surfaces, which she then smoothes with a knife, helping to turn the canvas into a vibrant ode to sublimated material effects.
In this way, the artist pays particular attention to the textures of her works, preferring to use coarse jute canvas or thick draperies as supports for her paintings, to reinforce their tactile character? Playing on oppositions of night/light, diaphanous/obscure, smooth/rough, optical/haptic… Aurélie Deguest takes up Bachelard’s advice to the poet’s imagination: work with substances that are the most contrasting and apt to awaken poetic reverie. The artist invites viewers to let their gaze wander over the surfaces of her canvases, perhaps rediscovering those lost sensations that we all bring with us when we are born.

Born in China in 1968, LiFang lives and works in Paris.
LiFang discovered her passion for painting at the age of 15. After seven years of study at the Nanjing Academy of Fine Arts, she taught drawing and painting at university before coming to France in 2001 to pursue her artistic research. After completing her Master’s degree in Fine Arts at Paris 1 Panthéon-Sorbonne University, she set out to find a new pictorial language with which to capture contemporary reality.
Using broad strokes, juxtaposed and modulated according to the lighting, LiFang conveys the volume of the beings she depicts. This style also allows her to place her works in direct relation to the contemporary world. The blurring and fragmentation effects evoke the pixelation of digital photographs enlarged to the point of losing their sharpness. They also bear witness to the erasure of individual identities within the crowds that cross paths in city streets, relax on beaches, or crowd into boats. Bodies are reduced to moving objects or beings that are as interchangeable as they are impenetrable. Sometimes light or profound, joyful or tragic, LiFang’s work is timeless and open.
Since 2005, her work has been shown in galleries, institutions, and international art fairs in France, Germany, Switzerland, New York, and Asia. Her works have been acquired by public collections such as the Musée Cernuschi in Paris and the Colas Foundation.
CURRICULUM VITAE
Solo shows (extracts)
2025
Somewhere, Galerie Boulakia, ASIA NOW, Musée de la Monnaie de Paris (France)
2024
Flâneries, Galerie Oriane, Munich (Allemagne)
2023
Between beaches, Galerie Bouakia, Londres (Angleterre)
2022
Au cœur de la vallée, Galerie Red Zone Arts, Francfort (Allemagne)
L’eau de Là, Galerie SpArts, Paris (France)
2018
The supreme good is like water, Galerie Red Zone Arts, Francfort (Allemagne)
Figur’Action, Galerie SpArts, Paris (France) – Catalogue
2015
Et toi le passant…, Centre culturel de VLG (France)- Catalogue
Chinese Spings, Galerie Valérie Delaunay, Paris (France)
Mignonne allons voir, Galerie Claire Gastaud, Clermont-Ferrand (France)
2014
Chinese nudes, Galerie Red Zone Arts, Genève (Suisse)
2012
Rêveries d’une promeneuse solitaire, Galerie Red Zone Arts, Genève (Suisse)
Peintures récentes, Galerie Claire Gastaud, Clermont-Ferrand (France)- Catalogue
2010
Instants Tannés, Château des Tourelles, Le Plessis-Trévise (France)
2008
Li Fang, Kips Gallery, New York (EU)
2007
Li Fang, Galerie Claire Gastaud, Clermont-Ferrand (France)
1999
Li Fang, Peinture à l’ huile, Galerie de l’Institut d’Art de Nankin, Nankin (Chine)
Group shows (extracts)
2019
China Today, Musée de l’Orient, Lisbonne, (Portugal)
Musée Cernuschi, Paris (France)
2012
Biennale de Shanghai 2012, Shanghai (Chine) – Catalogue
Fondation Colas, Ecole des Beaux-Arts de Paris (France) – Catalogue
2011
NordArt, Budelsdorf (Allemagne) – Catalogue
1998
1er Festival des Arts, Musée des Beaux-Arts de Jiangsu, Nankin (Chine)
Fairs (extracts)
TEFAF 2026, 2025, Galerie Boulakia, Maastricht (Pays-Bas)
BRAFA Art Fair 2026, 2025, 2024, 2023, Galerie Boulakia, Bruxelles (Belgique)
Luxembourg Art Week 2024, Galerie Boulakia (Luxembourg)
FAB Paris 2023, Galerie Boulakia, Paris (France)
Art Paris Art Fair 2022, 2020, 2014, Galerie Red Zone Arts, Paris (France)
Art Paris Art Fair 2014, 2013, 2012, 2007, Galerie Claire Gastaud, Paris (France)
Asia Now Art Fair Paris 2022, 2021, Galerie Red Zone Arts, Paris (France)
KIAF 2010, Kips Gallery, Seoul (Corée du Sud)
Art Beijing 2008, Galerie Sinitude, Beijing (Chine)
Edition
2023
Monographie LIFANG, aux Éditions SKIRA,
Paris
Collections publiques
2015
Jupiter Museum of Art, Shenzhen (Chine)
2013
Musée Cernuschi de Paris (France)
2012
Fondation Colas, Paris (France)





Bastien Vittori develops a practice that questions the materiality of images and the thresholds of perception they generate. He works mainly with photography, which he considers not as a simple capture, but as an object, a medium, a space for transformation. This medium often serves as a gateway to other visual art forms such as drawing, installation, and transfer, which allow images to be extended by shifting their context or medium.
This displacement operates as a methodological principle. By analogy with physical phenomena such as sedimentation, erasure, and embedding, the artist engages in a process of recomposition. He isolates fragments, textures, and flows of digital images, and transposes them into other regimes of materiality. His works make visible the way in which contemporary images circulate, accumulate, and settle.
Alongside his artistic research, he leads educational projects related to his favorite themes. His experience teaching in various settings has allowed him to discover the richness and uniqueness of the relationships that each person has with art, culture, and their environment. These experiences fuel his practice and reinforce his interest in projects that combine creation and sharing, opening up spaces for collective reflection.
CURRICULUM VITAE
Training
2021 – 2023
National diploma in Fine Arts
“Art and narration” section
École Européenne Supérieure d’Arts de Bretagne, Lorient
2019 – 2021
National diploma in Fine Arts
Congratulations from the jury
École Européenne Supérieure d’Arts de Bretagne, Lorient
2018 – 2019
Preparatory class for art schools (CPES – CAAP)
Lycée Rosa Parks, Paris
Exhibitions and residences
2025
– Solo show Creuser
Atelier Loo & Lou, Paris
– Creative residency
Atelier de l’Achille, Saint-Malo
– Solo show Le devenir en surface
Le Tzara, Paris
Since 2024
Permanent resident
“Love Letter”, group workshop, Bagnolet
2023
Artistic residency “Luciole”
Association Tournefou, Aix-Villemaur-Pâlis
2023
Group show Fragments vagabonds
Galerie du Faouëdic, Lorient




Joël Person





“I hate doing things literally”: Joël Person’s lost paradise is above all drawn. Born in 1962, the French artist, whose career is already well established, offers a very personal, introspective reflection in this solo show. For beneath his gift for words, Joël Person asks himself: as we grow older, is childhood the carefree time that seems to have disappeared forever? How universal are these distant and often vague memories that are unique to each of us?
Through a monographic trajectory that attempts to explore the different aspects of this question, the answer emerges through his works.
First up are the “Horses of the Apocalypse,” a huge cavalcade over 9 meters long that kicks off Joël Person’s artistic reflection. Their gallops read like a monumental musical score and, of course, their title evokes religious atonement. But once again, nothing is literal with Joël Person, and through his framing, the artist emphasizes the horses rather than the “riders,” the true leitmotif of his work. In the original text, it is the power of the horse that sets the pace for the artist’s research.
The symphony continues with “Cheval à la barre” (Horse at the Bar), another recurring motif and pivotal point in the artist’s career. This time, it is the horse that finds itself locked up. Its animal nature is all the more striking because it is shod, and all the more disturbing because the horse’s head, pressed against the bar, opens up onto the viewer’s space. Is it not a lost paradise to have domesticated the animal only to then lock it up? Through the very contemporary composition of this painting, Joël Person questions us about freedom that lasts only a moment, and about the nature of the dialogue that can be established with a horse whose eyes are literally “barred.”
The impassive “Song of the Earth” echoes a chant of renunciation, a tribute to a nature that is no longer what it once was but continues to resonate within us. This peaceful landscape surrenders itself to observation as well as threat: vineyards, crops, hunters, and territories inhospitable to fauna and flora lurk at the edge of the sheet of paper. And yet the rhythm of the earth is still there, immutable.
For while the lost paradise is, for Joël Person, very personal to each individual, the current context also reveals its global and universal nature. Wars, political tensions, and ecological problems destroy and render perishable the very notion of paradise. These daily losses remind us of what once was and is no longer, and remind us of our own finitude.
In this anxiety-provoking context, the artist repositions herself on what has been “lost”: it is by recalling her childhood that it becomes imprinted on her with greater precision. The numerous portraits, a selection of which are presented here, have dotted the artist’s career like so many memories immortalized on paper. Without ever erasing pure solitude, it is also the artist’s confrontation with another “self” in a tension offered to eternity. Paradise lost is what Joël Person rediscovers through drawing, which allows him to rediscover his primary, intuitive emotions, freed from all process.





Anele Pama is a visual artist whose work is deeply influenced by his upbringing and personal experiences. Growing up in a township in Gugulethu Kanana, South Africa, Pama’s art draws inspiration from the resilience and solidarity of his community. Using both oil and acrylic paints, the artist tells stories of survival, unity, and hope that define the lives of so many black South Africans living in townships. He lives and works in Cape Town.
Pama’s work reflects the daily realities of life in a ghetto, where people often have to face difficult conditions while continuing to help each other. Through her work, the artist seeks to highlight these positive aspects of life in the townships by focusing on the strength, perseverance, and love that persist despite the challenges, rather than reinforcing the negative stereotypes of violence and drug abuse that are commonly associated with them. Anele Pama’s work celebrates the community spirit and sacrifices of these individuals, each of whom works tirelessly to provide a better future for their children. One of the main themes of her work is the celebration of isolated grandparents, particularly grandmothers who sell meat on the street every day in order to send their children to school and thus provide them with the opportunities for a better life. Through her vivid and moving portraits, Pama honors their dedication and strength, giving a face to their stories, which are essential chapters in a broader narrative about the survival and empowerment of this community.
Anele Pama’s art serves as a powerful testament to the resilience and beauty that exists at the heart of townships, highlighting untold stories of love, survival, and hope—stories that often go unnoticed.

Abongile Sidzumo (born in 1996) lives and works in Cape Town, where he was born. In 2019, he graduated with a degree in Fine Arts from the Michaelis School of Fine Arts. Sidzumo then received the Blessing Ngobeni Art Prize, which earned him his first solo exhibition, entitled “Dancing in the Dust,” at the Everard Read Gallery in Johannesburg a year later. That same year, he was a finalist for the Cassier Welz Awards, an event hosted at the Bag Factory Artists’ Studios in collaboration with Strauss & Co.
In 2021, Sidzumo received the Gerald Sekoto Award in the Absa L’Atelier Awards. This award enabled him to undertake a three-month residency at the Cité Internationale des Arts in Paris. In 2023, he held a second solo exhibition at the Absa Gallery in Johannesburg, which also traveled to Gqeberha, Bloemfontein, and Pretoria. That same year, he entered a residency at KNKK in South Africa.
Sidzumo works with leather scraps and reused materials to create pieces that reflect and question our humanity, the way we coexist, and our relationship with nature. His sources of inspiration are memories that he revisits by linking them to places where he has lived, but also the daily lives of marginalized communities.
Leather is often associated with luxury, wealth, and power. By sewing and weaving it, Sidzumo questions our ability to redefine this material. For him, sewing refers to the notion of healing, that of the traumas inflicted on Black communities during apartheid. Today, in post-apartheid South Africa, his practice continues to question the lasting healing of these communities.