Matthieu Libault

Painter, sculptor, beach vagrant and ship graveyard defiler. Who am I ? I do not know. Where am I going ? I know even less. Birth is a mystery whose star cannot be chosen, but if I could choose where to die, in a postcard setting, I would fall asleep under the palms. My paintings, most often in oil, instinctively lean towards tribal art which I particularly appreciate for its simplicity and mysticism.

My sculptures, which could be linked to animism, are created from pieces of shipwrecks and other rigorously selected driftwood. That's why they have a soul. In the agony of a drift of several years sometimes, then stranded, for the most part, between rocks or on a strip of sand, such is their sad fate. Each piece has its own story, then passing through my hands, finally ends its chaotic journey into a timeless and unique work of art. 

These sculptures, sometimes human, sometimes animal, and sometimes without precise qualification, but beyond dreams, Native American totems or African masks, ultimately draw their appearance from the five continents. Of all kinds, they have a bewitching signature, recognizable by their features, their old wood, gnawed and polished by the surf and long sea voyages. Their feathers, their teeth, their horns, their steel rings and their glass eyes , put a final touch to their identity of extraordinary works of art.