Exhibitions

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/ColorHere, told me  Claire de Chavagnac Brugnon, showing me her canvas: this is my walk in Amsterdam. First thing, which you pay attention on is series of spots, each as small as cat's footprint. No, no, what we see is a rhythm of colours, starting from left to right and from top to bottom. We can almost hear what we see. 

Caught between the swing between the eye and the ear,  as a piece of music on the radio takes us in the car; you arrive at your destination without turning off the engine; even when stopped, the movement remains irresistible. In this case, that of a trip to Amsterdam, where one day the artist walked. These tones are reminiscent of gleaming paving stones, fluid reflections of the windows on the canals, blades of the sky cutting the glaucous depths of the water. What matters, however, is not the origin but the play of colors, the rhythm of the signs, their ricochet on the look and the hearing of the present. Each imprint is in turn the translation of memory into light, of light into pigment, of pigment into musical writing.

Excerpt from the text of the writer Denis Hirson in "Claire de Chavagnac-Brugnon, THE TEXTURE OF TIME" published by Lelivredart, 2014.