Thierry Lefort - New Wave Magazine
Thierry Lefort at Galerie 33
The Georgian Hotel's Galerie 33 presents a new solo exhibition by French artist Thierry Lefort, in collaboration with Villa Albertine, Yoyo Maeght, and Show Gallery. A selection of works is also on view at the Residence of the Consul General of France in Beverly Hills. Known for his meditative approach and mastery of subtle tones, Lefort unveils for this exhibition his striking Série Bleue alongside Le Bleu Californien Lefort, a bespoke pigment created for LeFranc Bourgeois (the historic French paint house) and inspired by the unique light of Los Angeles.
This exhibition marks his second solo show in Los Angeles, offering a poetic yet unconventional take on the city's landscapes.
Your Bleu series presents a highly personal vision of Los Angeles. What drew you to LA as a subject, and what sensations did you aim to capture?
I want to capture the most unique and intimate corners of Los Angeles, not the touristy places, and I want to show things and corners that people don't see or know about the city in general.
You often highlight everyday moments: deserted streets, architectural forms, fleeting light. How do you choose which aspects of the city become the focus of your paintings?
I choose each subject of my paintings, and it's usually not a single location that I depict but rather a multitude of unique elements that make it unique and special. I walk around the city a lot and get inspired by it. The light itself determines the place that will be important to me. It is what creates contrast, and what interests me is finding the right balance between light and darkness. It is a unique sensation that I experience when I perceive the contradictions of Los Angeles, and I represent them in the light and dark contrasts of my works.
This is intentional, as I only extrapolate the elements that I find interesting for my works and the ones that I wish to bring the viewer's attention to. Most of the time, there are no humans in my paintings, as I wish for the viewer to be the subject of my works and to imagine themselves walking around the area that I have depicted. By the way, the fresco that I did on the Burbank wall is a perfect example of this: as you walk along the fresco, you can truly envision yourself there. In the future, I might paint humans as well, but it's highly likely that they would be the sole focus of my paintings, not just an additional element.
How has Chinese calligraphy influenced the gestures and structure of your work?
Chinese calligraphy has inspired my gesture, the depth and repetition of my brushstroke, the breathing that paces my painting; it helps me concentrate for a long time. At 16, I first became familiar with calligraphy and with Japanese prints that I discovered in books and illustrations. I was particularly fascinated by the works and art of Hokusai, Utamaro and Hiroshige.
Cézanne's commitment to sensation and structure is often discussed in relation to your art. How do you reinterpret his lessons for today's landscapes?
I like Cézanne because he let himself be guided by his sensations when painting en plein air. The way he felt what he saw took precedence over the subject itself; he brought his own sensations to the canvas. At the same time, he fully trusted nature and turned to it to provide him with these unique sensations. He also left an open door to his legacy with his studies on spheres, cones, cylinders, and the concentric vision, the gray point. More importantly, he attempted to dissect the duality between form and brushstroke. I read many texts by Gill de Louze, who wrote extensively about Cézanne and focused specifically on his creative process. According to Cézanne, to make a good painting, one must lose oneself in it, and that's what he did. Like Cézanne, I have also painted a lot "en plein air" and to this day I continue to be inspired by Nature but to go even deeper and truly immerse myself in my works, I finish them in my studio to build them and really work in depth on their many layers and to work further on each composition.
Your paintings appear minimalistic yet profoundly complex. How do you reconcile simplicity with complexity in your compositions?
The main implication is the result of complexity. My way of painting might appear simple on the surface, but simplifying is very complicated. Let me explain: if my way of drawing is simple, then I must add a layer of complexity through color. It's all about balance: simplifying one layer of the painting means making the next one more complex, and I do that through color. If I kept simplifying, there would be nothing left, but I chose to add that complexity, that vibrancy, and richness through color.
Your work has been described as meditative and Zen. Do you consider painting a form of mindfulness or a spiritual practice?
I would say that painting is actually both for me: it is very spiritual, as I would like to be aware of everything that inspires me in order to have a higher vision of things. I try to simplify reality by preserving what is beautiful and by adopting a higher vision of things. In general, I try to be instinctive: I don't have many rituals, and as soon as I spot one, I try to change it. I need to let myself be carried away by the moment.
Many of your works explore the tension between natural and artificial light. What role does light play in your artistic vision?
I'm interested in light, but what truly fascinates me are the shadows it creates. For example, when light hits a wall, I'm interested in what the wall reflects and the shadows it casts upon us. I'm interested in how objects will be enveloped by this unique and singular atmosphere created by light.
Looking back at your career, from Paris to Tokyo and Los Angeles, how do you think your style has evolved?
Over the years, my style has evolved and become more complex, seeking this simplicity. I seek the very essence of things, and that is where their strength lies. I strive to remove anything from my paintings that might weaken them and distract from the very essence of the subject. When I add something unnecessary to a canvas, I feel an unnecessary tension; so I start to remove what I feel is causing it. Each of my canvases is linked to the next one I will start, and I am always more interested in the next one; not the one I am currently working on, but the one I will do tomorrow. I am constantly evolving: like water in a stream, and I learned this in China.
What do you hope viewers feel or experience when standing before one of your paintings?
I hope to enrich the viewer by presenting them with an unknown aspect of color and form. I hope to instill in them a sense of fulfillment, a form of spirituality, a breath of novelty, and a desire for escape. I love discovering new things. I like to transform reality: I distort it and derive something new from it. Reality is for me like a springboard and, like Cézanne, I always return to nature, my main source of inspiration.
Are there any subjects or themes you haven't yet explored but are interested in for the future?
Curiously, subjects, like humans, don't particularly interest me. I prefer to internalize, and the subject I paint is merely a pretext for exploring what is meaningful to me. In the future, I would like to experiment with larger formats and multiple color associations, areas I have not yet tackled. For now, I feel like I'm not done with Los Angeles and still need to extract elements from it. Los Angeles is like Monet's Water Lilies or Cézanne's Mont Sainte-Victoire: Los Angeles is my obsession, it remains an open question, and for now, it continues to inspire me.