Intimate conviction and almost self-evident: painting is seen, lived. So, talking about what is visible, talking about painting is a curious exercise. An impossible path. A priori.
Beyond the figurative and abstract, there are two types of works: the one that speaks to you and the one that inspires you. Who sucks you in. Guin'Amant's painting is categorically situated in the second disposition. It invites participation, involvement and projection. To get into it, like through the mirror. To get lost, to find your way around. I like to make people react to these lively, animated, muscular canvases, which are nevertheless made of softness, of invitation to dream, to the imagination. I like these back and forth between the canvas and the spectator, the way everyone grasps it, gets wet and impregnates himself with it. Far from any intentional discourse or allegory of existence. Just vibrate, let it happen and get carried away.
Yet there is something both coherent and contradictory in these works, between the invitation to travel and the invitation to rest. Between the violence of the gestures and the softness of the forms. Between love and death. Guin'Amant's work and talent are based on this lightness and depth. And leads us to it.