Denis BRUN, New York, à la Galerie Giacobetti Paul de Brooklyn, du 2 janvier au 1er février 2014.

For my first personal show in the USA, I decided to put together pieces of stories that are already extentions of other stories.
The missing link is the public and the imagination one decides to put into the comprehension of my work.

On the walls I present modern primitive arrows (or spears) made with wood (from Brooklyn Owl's Head Park), ceramics and various small objects from everyday life.

They could belong to survivors' tribes of a world war that would have sent back humanity to its origins.

So maybe after all, we would have learned something : war is useless.
Survivors new tribes now make arrows for a peaceful and ornamental use, to remember how it was before, before the end, before the new beginning.

So if you believe that story, you can believe as well that, in that time, coat hangers became chandeliers for pink flamingos and inflatable toys turned get into a ping pong balls orgy to forget our polymer misery.

To be more down to earth, all that work is somehow connected to the reasons I became and artist : childhood frustrations and obsessions.

I was born on a farm, but hated that. I lived in a boring place in the deep country of France, far from the sea.

I was surrounded by trees, rednecks and cows but I was obsessed by water, sea, swimming pools and inflatable toys.
I had some invisible friends, I believed strongly in God but hated religion, and started early to use my imagination to escape from reality.

I felt like I was living in an abstract world constantly hurt by adults or other kids.
I loved animals and nature, but suffered a lot from loneliness and hyper-sensitivity.

I really hated my life until I started to have a tiny beginning of a social life at around 13 years old.
I use to play ping pong and I loved it. At the same time, I had a kind of physical infirmity which prevented me from going to the swimming pool or to the sea or to do any sport for 7 years.

Later on, I began to study art and used all my suffering to feed my work and turn it into a kind of tragic/surrealistic/nihilistic work that ended with my last suicidal attempt in 1994.

As you can see, I failed, and almost 20 years later I can say that for 5 years now, I reconnect with the happiness and good moments I lived during my first 30 years and my work is an illustration of that fact.

I now believe that I had to pass all those existential layers to be happy now and able to interact as an artist with a new public.

PS : don't worry if you see some deflated animals, they're just taking a little nap.