Bronze Sculpture for Sale
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Patrick Naggar
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France
• 1954
Biography
Patrick Naggar is a painter living and working in Paris. He was born in 1954.
?At first, it is the matter that speaks and then I give it a meaning?, explains Patrick S.Naggar.
Each of his paintings constitutes a trip to the heart of the magic of the dark. The light is generated by accidents of the matter, by the charcoal-like reliefs that reveal a mysterious, twilight landscape. Maybe it shows life in the dark, but there are many nuances and subtleties about it.
?Everybody has their own means of expression, their own tools and mortar. I have paint binders, a trowel and pure pigments.
Everything starts with the pleasure of mixing the color and the paste, and then the struggle with myself starts.
So I search? I don?t really know why? I grope around, I go forward, I do and then I undo. I take some of the mix away and then add some more, while stroking the canvas, gently or violently. And then a way opens, there is a sensation, a feeling, and the desire takes over again.
I have something I want to share and every day, the ideas intermingle and become clearer, little by little.
When the road opens, there is the satisfaction of holding something in my hands: it is an object that vibrates.
It contains the ochre of the memory that speaks from the inside, the black of which our elusive dreams are made and the deep blue of time.
I tell a story that mingles, before my eyes, with my own story.? (Patrick S. Naggar)
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?At first, it is the matter that speaks and then I give it a meaning?, explains Patrick S.Naggar.
Each of his paintings constitutes a trip to the heart of the magic of the dark. The light is generated by accidents of the matter, by the charcoal-like reliefs that reveal a mysterious, twilight landscape. Maybe it shows life in the dark, but there are many nuances and subtleties about it.
?Everybody has their own means of expression, their own tools and mortar. I have paint binders, a trowel and pure pigments.
Everything starts with the pleasure of mixing the color and the paste, and then the struggle with myself starts.
So I search? I don?t really know why? I grope around, I go forward, I do and then I undo. I take some of the mix away and then add some more, while stroking the canvas, gently or violently. And then a way opens, there is a sensation, a feeling, and the desire takes over again.
I have something I want to share and every day, the ideas intermingle and become clearer, little by little.
When the road opens, there is the satisfaction of holding something in my hands: it is an object that vibrates.
It contains the ochre of the memory that speaks from the inside, the black of which our elusive dreams are made and the deep blue of time.
I tell a story that mingles, before my eyes, with my own story.? (Patrick S. Naggar)
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