Sculptures en Bois & Objets Artistiques
About Me
The Studio on the French Riviera
The studio sits on the French Riviera, where olive trees have grown for centuries between the sea and the mountains. This landscape supplies the material for every sculpture: roots and trunks of olive trees aged 300 to 500 years, and driftwood shaped for years by the Mediterranean current.
Both materials arrive already marked by survival — the dense, twisted grain of olive wood holds the memory of drought and slow growth, while driftwood carries a form already smoothed by water and time.
100 %
handmade
handmade
wabi-sabi
aesthetics
aesthetics
Touch
In this gallery, the sculptures are meant to be touched. Run your hand across the surface — feel where the wood has turned smooth as silk, and where the bark’s memory still lingers. It’s a kind of knowing that sight alone can’t offer: a space for slow, quiet attention, for anyone who finds poetry in a crack and a whole world in the cross-section of a tree.
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Every sculpture is one of a kind: what you see is a specific piece of wood, its specific age, its specific crack — one that will never appear again in any other trunk.
Cracks, Texture, Natural Finish
Cracks and knots are never filled in, and the surface is never smoothed beyond what the wood asks for. A rough edge or a dark vein tells the truth about the material that a flawless gloss would hide. The only finish, on every olive or driftwood piece, is oil and wax — no lacquer. The wood keeps breathing, and its texture stays alive.
The Form Already Inside the Wood
A sculpture’s form is never decided in advance. Before the chisel touches the wood, I spend long stretches simply looking at a trunk or a root, waiting for the grain to reveal the direction it wants to follow.
A sculpture’s form is never decided in advance. Before the chisel touches the wood, I spend long stretches simply looking at a trunk or a root, waiting for the grain to reveal the direction it wants to follow.
The work isn’t to invent an image, but to clear away what hides the one already there — sometimes a body caught between motion and stillness, sometimes a myth that has waited centuries to be read in the curve of a trunk, sometimes several ages of the same matter, present all at once.
