FR/
Texte d'Alexandra Marini
EN/
Text by Alexandra Marini
If, of Brusk, we knew essentially the gigantic mural frescoes which upset the hexagon since more than twenty years, the present exhibition in the Gallery Laurent Strouk proposes to throw light on the work of the young person from Lyon (born in 1976) under a new angle: the work in workshop. By his own admission, Brusk is first and foremost a draftsman; a label that is easily confirmed by his taste for illustration, graphic and typographic research, and the attention he pays to volume, light, and even more so to the play of chiaroscuro. In these fragmented compositions, the spontaneous gesture of the artist becomes a pretext for the most daring contrasting undertakings: he plays with fullness and emptiness, color and black and white, large format and meticulous attention to each detail. These borrowings are amalgamated with the elements specific to the graffiti culture, in the first place of which the use of the aerosol or the reiteration of the fow, in the sequence of the letters and the reasons, which structures and rhythms the superpositions of plans. The ease with which Brusk mobilizes these various references is one of the strengths of the artist and places him in the line of the rare painters resulting from the graffiti to have known to draw a line of union between high and low culture. Very quickly, his style becomes immediately recognizable among all. It is commonly referred to as the "dripping style". For the artist, dripping no longer defines a stylistic effect but a technique in its own right, he "tames" it in order to create movement and relief. Its corollary, the tear, invites for its part to defuse the motif, in order to inscribe it in more lightness and volatility. More recently, he continues his investigations around the 3D and created, for the exhibition, two sculptures-installations. We will have understood it, Brusk places the experimentation in the middle of his work, and does not hesitate to put itself constantly in play. The topics approached by the artist enter in resonance with the formal duality evoked above: it is a question this time of opposing the love to the death, the urbanity to the animality, the nobility of the creation to the triviality of the actuality. All of this, very often, through the prism of humor, sometimes black, sometimes fanciful. The playful fresco "Giant Squid", a kind of mutant squid, imagined by the artist on a long building along the Seine in Rouen, in 2016, is a good example. Or the way he revisits masterpieces of art history, from Michelangelo's Creation of Adam ("And Art Created God," 2013), to Rodin's Thinker ("Rod1," 2015), not to mention the Warholian wink "This isn't a Warhol Banana," from 2015. Sometimes, the criticism is more acerbic, and more committed. The highlight of the exhibition, the series devoted to refugees, begins a reflection on how to raise awareness of the often unjust fate of these populations in Europe. The artist strives to demonstrate that art can change our view, play a political role, and trigger a collective dynamic in society, far from any preconceived ideas.
