ARTicle 1 for l’Edicola / The Louvre

As I walked through the monumental galleries of the Louvre on an early summer’s evening, I couldn’t help but feel gratitude for the incredible country that is France and the historical and cultural treasures it holds. Being French but having grown up in Asia and discovering Paris at the ripe age of 23 has deepened my appreciation for Europe and its cultural treasures that much more.

Following a strong urge to experience beautiful paintings, I ventured to the Louvre with the sole intention of walking through the painting section, but quickly realised, alas, the painting section was closed at the time of my visit. I then proceeded to wander around the museum in the hopes that another artistic medium would draw my attention. It didn’t take long for my eyes to lock into the beautiful Richelieu wing of the museum, which I ended up lingering in until closing.


With roughly half a million objects, it is difficult for one to fully take in the all the riches this museum has to offer without feeling quite overwhelmed at times. In order to limit my ‘art intake’ of the day and attempt to direct my ‘ADHD brain’, I decided to solely focus on a small section of the sculptures in the collection — the ones I felt aesthetically drawn to, starting off with Pierre Puget’s monumental marble sculpture of ‘Alexandre et Diogène’, produced in the late 17th century. Carved from a single large block of Carrara marble, this large scale work sucks the viewer into its scene, in which Alexander the Great offers to grant the famous Greek philosopher Diogenes anything he wants, and Diogenes famously asks him to move aside because he is blocking his sunlight. The story illustrates Diogenes' belief that even the most powerful person in the world could not offer him something more valuable than his freedom and simple way of life. More than being just an exceptionally beautiful work of art, this is a story that particularly touched me as it highlights dynamics of power and ambition (represented by Alexander) as well as independence and rejection of material wealth (as shown through the character of Diogenes). It is something that a lot of people can resonate with, and I can say that being an artist, this is quite a common internal battle one has to face: how does one create art from a place of truth and freedom in a world so riddled by capitalist values of profit and superficial morals? Although there are many different characters and details in the work, the expression of anguish on Diogenes’ face contrasted with a striking air of arrogance and superiority on Alexander’s really sum up a compelling, broader metaphor about the world.

While continuing my visit through the galleries, I (very pleasantly) stumbled upon a series of sculptures putting angels to light. Angels - or cherubs, or putti (as they say in Italian) are figures that have heavily influenced my work: not solely on an aesthetic or symbolic level, but also as a representation that creativity for me is intrinsically linked to my spiritual journey on this earth. They are healers, messengers, warriors. They provides guidance, comfort, protection, and direct us to a world greater than our current reality. In a world so corrupt by greed and dominance, they are needed more than ever (hence making it my mission as an artist to highlight them when I can in my work). The sculpture that particularly stood out to me was made around the same time as ‘Alexandre et Diogène’ and is a funerary effigy of Jacques de Souvré (a French knight of the Order of Malta) made by the French sculptor François Anguier. The two putti (winged children) add a sense of innocence and sadness to the masterpiece and remind us or the finitude of life. My personal feelings when examining this sculpture were sheer admiration and awe. The set of wings hanging off the perfectly sculpted angelic bodies, the flawless curls on the angels’ heads, immaculately carved in marble, the stern expressions on their faces… Anguier manages to impeccably portray these cherubs as having both human and divine qualities through their facial expressions and body language as well as a real celestial aura. The very essence of the funerary effigy in itself creates an atmosphere in which the viewer, by nature is placed in a space where he/she is almost forced to contemplate the greater questions of life; life and death, and the transition between the two. These are questions that have intrigued me since I can remember and continue to fuel my work. Although my work is about 10000 miles away from being place even near the great artists I mentioned previously, I would like my work to provoke a similar sense of philosophical questioning in the mind of the viewer that transcends the exhibition space. These questions on good and evil, life and death have engrossed humans from the beginning of time and what better way to raise these discussions than through the medium of creativity?