Christian LepèreYear of birth :
1942Public or private shows :
Some artists leave trends, schools, and passing tendencies to a side and build their work unperturbed, without the slightest worry of being against fashion or without feeling they are betraying their time by not adhering to the general rules that have been marked. Christian Lepère is one of them.
With an unequaled style in engraving, an art he mastered and widely practiced, Christian Lepère has a true love for drawing. Lepère has an artisan's constancy, and so he chisels and polishes his works until he reaches perfection, aided, of course, by his talent. Initially dedicated to engraving, he later passed on to watercolor drawing and color engraving to finally reach painting. But whether if it is making incisions, removing pieces of copper in engravings, or caressing the canvas with the brush, he always applies the same finesse, precission, and meticulousness that gives his works an excellent quality. The distribution of values and colors is impeccable.
An awakened dreamer, he invites us to spend some time in his strange theatre, where performances are unlimited and production has been watched to the detailed, but where the set and accessories fall and crash against each other in a luxuriant phantasmagoria.
The past meets the present (but in fact, is it yesterday? Is it today? Or is it tomorrow? The day joins the night, the good joins the evil, the irreal replaces the real, and the imaginary forms an alliance with reason...
Christian Lepère is a storyteller with a great talent: he traps us, bewitches us, and describes the dark side of the moon to us, convinces us and we follow him down the path. He knows that all the resorts will work: humor, derision, sadness, dream, eroticism, symbols...and he uses them!
All the myths are present and time stops. Then, our imagination takes over and goes into these supernatural landscapes populated with strange beings...these delirious palaces whose architectures are flown over by frightening aircrafts or crossed by groups of backfiring motorcicles...the escalators with random directions on which the Woman, pagan and sensual, seeks to lead us...the skies or oceans where the jolts trash cathedrales or salesboats...