1. Could you share a bit about your background and what led you to start your art practice?

I was born in the countryside near Lyon in France in 1998 and am a Franco-Italian visual artist. I obtained my DNSEP from the École nationale supérieure d’art de Paris-Cergy in 2022 and spent a year at HGB Leipzig. I did several residencies (Villa Belleville, France; PADA, Portuga; Sim Residency, Iceland, etc.).

I don't really remember how or when I started to make art. As a child, I already loved painting, collage, and herbariums, and above all, walking in nature and observing plants, flowers, and animals. Looking, observing—I think that's where it all started, a great passion for observation and a strong curiosity that never stops.

In 2016, I did a preparatory art course in Paris. There, I met some wonderful people and felt comfortable in an environment that really interested me.

2. What themes does your work explore?

My practice invites the viewer to project themselves into artificial forms with a functional purpose. I question the trajectories take: “What do they produce?”, “How do we cross them?”, and “Where do we look?” I examine common places, the invisible threads they generate, and the constraints of space, turning an exhibition space into a place for dialogue. Using images and found objects, I question the intrinsic qualities of time, resilience, and the under-perceptions of the used. I'm interested in preservation methods involving the extraction and fixation of objects maintained in uncertain balances that range from deliberate to delicate.

Through the use of objects, I seek to create a conversation within the space, where each element responds to and reconfigures the others. This interaction allows us to reconsider our connection to everyday objects and to the intimate, often overlooked aspects of life.

My research resonates directly with the understanding of “ecology” as the questioning of interactions with our environment, “collecting,” and “reusing materials”. As I collect and assemble, I bring together not only the immediate impression of an item but also its echo of what came before, where contrasting and complimenting forms consider narratives of transmissions, relationships, and individuality.

3. How has your work evolved over the years, and what has influenced those changes?

Since leaving school, I've favoured artistic residencies. I see these opportunities as laboratories—limited by simple constraints of time, working space, and intensity, yet less constrained by money than in Paris. These grants and deadlines allow me to intentionally deepen my practice, with freedom and focused work in new playgrounds and places of exploration. My production is an extension of myself, so when I move into a new place, I settle in totally, warmly, finding myself in specific experiences and a practice shaped by that new environment. My work is born of what is—what surrounds me. I’m always gravitating around the same ideas or questions, but I leave a lot of room for future places and surprises.

So my work is influenced by the people I come into contact with, the stories I listen to—whatever moves me.

Over time, my practice began to focus more on the notion of reuse and ecological consciousness. Working with found materials has allowed me to see objects not just as utilitarian, but as carriers of history and memory. Each object I recover becomes a "treasure" with its own potential narrative. This approach led me to delve deeper into preservation practices, which resonate with broader ecological questions about our relationship with the environment.

4. Where do you find inspiration for your work?

Random wanderings, joyful finds, and walks bring my work to life. Simple, precious exchanges enrich my work.

During my residency near Lisbon, I had an experience with local fishermen. I asked them if they had any old fishing lures to give me, and I received a small bag as a gift—pieces of coloured lures in plastic packaging. This unexpected encounter reminded me of the bag of sweets I used to get at the bakery when I was a child. These moments are what connect us all. We've all experienced them—a little moment of solitude when we smile to ourselves. A smell, an image, a feeling stays with us.

5. Can you walk us through your creative process and how you bring an idea to life?

A find, a moment, a memory. I often start by gathering materials and objects. And like a collage, my first gesture will lead to the second, and so on. A lot of what I do depends on what I have around me at any given time. I don't try too hard to find the  material I imagined beforehand. I never go to three shops to find the perfect thing. Instead, I have fun figuring out how to join/assemble what I've got: silk, wood, paper, door....

I remember my mother once saying to me when I was playing dress-up with my Barbies or dolls, “Why are you trying so hard to do that?” It's true—it's not easy, even a bit painful, to dress-up a tiny area. But in fact it was just because I was playing—and now I'm always playing with my materials. That's how my work progresses.

6. What is the project you’re most proud of to date?

Recently in Portugal I started a research project called “Dysfunctional Room.” It aims to create an interactive environment where objects intermingle to redefine our perceptions of space, memory, and human relationships. This project is part of a desire to deconstruct traditional forms by encouraging a collective reflection on our relationship with the object, and the past, and with shared space, where every encounter becomes an opportunity to create together. It's a project I'd like to pursue.

I've realised that my production is much more interesting in a rural environment than in the city. My practice has opened up—or rather reopened—to simple things. More basic, more essential. Things that can bind us all together. I've found more meaning in the way I produce.

7. Do you see yourself staying in Paris long-term, or are there other cities that inspire you to work there?

I find it less and less interesting to stay in a studio in Paris. That's why the artistic residency format is so interesting. I've realised that working between four walls doesn't always coincide with my research, my way of working, or my way of thinking.

So yes—everything, everywhere. I want to go everywhere and see what's there. Who's there, what they're talking about, what they like, what they don't like, what's missing. Who else can I work with and talk to?

8. What would you like to accomplish in the next few years?

Difficult question. Working more in institutions and continuing with residencies? I’d love to collaborate with researchers, anthropologists, and philosophers to bring other dimensions to my practice.

9. If there’s one thing you hope people take away from your work, what would it be?

The sincerity with which I operate. At the end-of-residency exhibition at Villa Belleville, Rémi Voche, who has become a friend, told me that when he entered my exhibition space, he felt very comfortable—like something that takes us back to what we know. That's what I want. Not just for people to feel comfortable, but for them to be able to access what they see if they want to, without coercion. In fact, I don't try to make my work immersive, which would be too anaesthetic. I try to leave space by provoking an encounter.