Painting for an exhibition in Tokyo

Dear friends,

Summer is around the corner here in Madrid, and I’m writing to you from my sunny balcony. So feel free to grab the cool beverage of your choice, or maybe a juicy piece of fruit, while I tell you about the time I painted seven paintings in a month for a show in Tokyo.

I received an email at the end of January asking if I would like to take part in a collective show organized by Galerie Le Metté in Tokyo, in springtime. This was a real pinch-me moment since I have been wanting to develop this side of my work for a long time – painting, exhibiting and (who knows!) selling original art. I remember feeling terrified, infinitely grateful and absolutely excited when I typed my reply with shivering fingers. “I would absolutely love to!”

I got so excited that I said yes before fully realizing what it would involve.

After sending my email, I walked on a little cloud for a few days, while also feeling carefully incredulous. Maybe it was all a joke, and someone would shortly write, saying “haha, you fell for it, we had a good laugh, have a good life”. But this message never arrived. And then it sank in: I was going to have my work live an adventure in Tokyo.

However, I quickly realized something: most of my original art had stayed in France when I moved abroad, and the paintings I did have with me in Madrid were not meaningful enough to me to be part of an exhibition. Which meant I would have to start from scratch, painting six to eight pieces of art in a few weeks. Luckily, I had been dreaming of this for a while, so ideas had slowly formed in my mind and a lot of them came out bursting. For a few months already, I had started developing a habit to paint on the side of my illustration work, which tremendously helped me in the process. I had a catalogue of images and ideas to work from, as I had witnessed some motifs growing in my paintings during the past months.

“Jardin rêvé”, work in progress, watercolour on hot pressed paper

 

“Matin de mai”, acrylic on paper, part of the selected works for the exhibition

 

I dove head first into a month of intense painting – probably the deepest creative period I have been through for years. Since I still had to honour some client projects I was involved in, I used every bit of spare time between rounds of feedback to sit in my studio and paint the hours away. Only when my mind was about to burst, I would give myself a break to go walk in the sun. And think some more about my paintings.

While I was eating, I was painting. While I was doing the dishes, I was painting. While I was brushing my teeth, I was painting. While I was going grocery shopping, I was painting. While I was sleeping, I was painting. My mind was painting all. The. Time.

For the first time, I tried a new creative process: I started working on two to three pieces simultaneously. For years, I had been telling myself I was doing my best work when focusing on one thing at a time. But during that month, I discovered that working on several paintings at the same time felt wonderful. As soon as I was feeling stuck or starting to doubt myself too much, I could switch to a different one, and each painting would nourish the others. A little universe started to appear. Something nestled between my past illustration work –I revisited some pieces from a couple of years ago— and a new painting practice I had been yearning for.

“Vers la douceur” is an acrylic painting on paper, part of the selection for the exhibition

And after four to five weeks of frantic painting, they felt finished. I looked at them and knew – they were ready for their overseas adventure. After experiencing this kind of painting spree for the first time, the moment came to prepare the paintings for shipment outside of the EU… for the first time. And I quickly understood there was a lot I didn’t know!

I will not give you the whole detailed process, because I don’t want you to fall asleep in front of your screen, but instead share the most important thing I had to make peace with at this step of the process: learning to let go. Of the paintings that had kept me company for weeks (they even followed me in my dreams at night). Of the control I could not have over the package while it was traveling (suddenly, the paintings were no longer living quietly in my studio --  they had to cross the whole world without me, protected only by layers of cardboard, bubble wrap, and a frankly unreasonable amount of tape). Of the need to anticipate every little thing ahead (customs can surprise you). Of a little piece of myself. I have poured so much into these pieces, and now it feels like a small part of my thoughts is on the other side of the world. I have not mastered the art of letting go just yet (the road is still long), but this was an important step towards it.

“Deux rêveurs”, watercolour and ink on hot pressed paper, part of the selected works for the exhibition

About the exhibition

If you happen to be in Tokyo during the exhibition, I would be incredibly happy to know that these paintings were able to meet someone on the other side of the world. It still feels unreal to me imagining that these paintings that were made with my own brush in my tiny studio in Madrid, are now hanging in a beautiful gallery so far away.

Below, you will find all of the exhibition details. And if you do end up visiting the show, please feel free to send me a photo or tell me about your experience there — it would genuinely mean so much to me.

Exhibition Period
May 28-June 3

Venue

Artglorieux, GINZA SIX 5F& 1F, 6-10-1 Ginza, Chuo-ku, Tokyo

Opening time

10:30 AM – 8:30 PM
6:00 PM on the final day.

 
 

For years, I thought of myself only as an illustrator. Painting existed quietly in the background — but it always needed to serve my illustration job, fill my portfolio, become an Instagram post. But over the past few months, I have slowly tried to make more room for it in my mind and in my life, not as a hobby tucked between client projects, but as a real part of my artistic practice.

I have always struggled to allow myself to believe in something before it is validated from the outside (I’m trying to change that, but it’s a slow thing to unlearn). And this beautiful opportunity felt like a nudge from the world telling me: you are allowed to paint outside of illustration commissions. You can tell your own stories in your paintings. Not every piece of art you make had to be about following a brief or a goal.

I don’t know what the future holds, things feel uncertain at the moment in a lot of ways. But I know that somewhere between long painting days, customs forms and cardboard boxes, something shifted. I don’t know where it will lead, but I feel like a path opened within me. And I hope to be able to allow myself to follow it for as long as it brings me this much joy.

 

If you read until here, thank you, and I will see you again soon!
Sending love & pineapple tea ✨
Cécile

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