François Mayu

April 16, 2014, past midnight Wandering on the Chemin des Dames Alone, under the moon, full And the wind carries me the whispers Souls who call “Mama” Who call “Mutti” 2005: Painter-sculptor 2001: Photographer 1980: Co-founder of the Tarcus communication agency 1978: Graduated from the Central Union of Decorative Arts 1974: Rœderer Art Academy Artistic approach: Gleaner of the Chemin des Dames… It is not directly a family story, and yet. Benjamin Bourlier, my maternal grandfather, is one of the hundreds of thousands of wounded hairy people in Verdun. He will not go back to the front. He died in 1956, and I will not know him. Beginning of the 2000s, return to the battlefields of the Great War. These brutal emotions then re-emerge which, from childhood, were to mark me forever. It is the meeting with the Chemin des Dames, a place which for me symbolizes 14-18: stabilization of the front, great offensive (April 16, 1917), refusal of obedience, sectorized attacks, gains and losses of land, and so many men of different nationalities who clashed there. So it is the imperative need to stay there regularly, to meet those who live there, to listen to them, to learn, to respect. After three years of impregnation, of reflection, it is to paint this stage, enigmatic horizon, theater of the inexpressible. Places of suffering, courage, fear, anger, death. It is also getting lost in the fog, sitting down in the ploughs, thinking, feeling, letting yourself be absorbed by the earth. Here shrapnel inexorably trapped in their matrix of rust, of Siena-colored earth, land of the Aisne. With the agreement of the farmers, tirelessly survey the plowed plots, saturated with metal debris with sharp edges, vestiges of an incredible violence, scars of the formidable cannonade. Never violate the ground by digging but simply glean these fragments which constantly question me: what was their devastating history? Assemble them, erect silhouettes now peaceful, columns "For what victory?". The "bronze 1917" is the alloy obtained from the melting of copper and brass debris gleaned during my wanderings on the set. During exhibitions, it is to awaken, even reveal family stories; and above all, do not forget them. It's at Chemin des Dames, and it's elsewhere. A century already; this morning on the scale of inhumanity. From the use of these materials, it became clear to me that part of my work should be devoted to supporting life and be donated to the Founder ASP (support and development of palliative care). 1917 - 2017 a century tomorrow