Photography by Laura Stevens

Plus Fabienne 1

Fabienne Verdier is an unconventional painter. Gripping an enormous paintbrush suspended from the studio ceiling, Verdier applies paint to the canvas vertically, using a traditional Chinese technique that exploits the forces of gravity. What seem like electrical pulses, these meditative, energetic strokes invite viewers to lose themselves in detail.

Furthermore, Verdier decided to challenge herself and became the first visual artist-in-residence at the Juilliard School in 2014. At Juilliard, she sought to fuse music and painting, drawing on visual sound waves to create oeuvres. Her desire to reinvent her method and energy never stops. She is a painter whose spontaneous artworks are alive with energy.



PLUS: I want to discuss your early life and career. Can you share what sparked your interest in painting?

FABIENNE VERDIER: When I was young, I studied music and played classical piano, but the prospect of auditioning in public made me so anxious that I had to give up music as a whole. Being on stage, facing the audience terrified me so much that I just froze up there. It was then that I started to take an interest in painting which my parents encouraged me to do as well. 


P: Your father wanted you to become a figurative painter, but you were always skeptical of that, right? Do you think that this was because you and your father perceived the world in very different ways?  


FV: Well, my father graduated from one of the most renowned art schools in Paris, and he wanted me to learn painting in the same way that he did: starting with the theoretical and practical foundations of drawing and then moving on to oil painting. He absolutely wanted me to familiarize myself with artistic concepts that he considered essential–perspectives and vanishing points. But very early on, I had this intuition that our visual perception of reality and of the objects that surround us was much more complex than Western laws of perspective. So, I began to rebel against that traditional view, and I followed my own way.


P: After studying at the Ecole des Beaux-Arts of Toulouse, you left France to study in China. What drew you to make this choice?

FV: As a painter, I was always interested in the question of what life is. Life is movement, and movement is spontaneity. But I wondered, how could I possibly paint this reality? I knew that I couldn’t find the answer in France. It was through reading Chinese and Japanese textbooks and painting books, that I realized that nature didn’t have to be painted according to Western classical rules. I told myself then, that by going to study on-site with painters trained in this aesthetic thought, I might find teachings that would correspond to my intuitions. So, I left France and went to Sichuan Fine Arts. 



P: What was it like there? 

FV: I was in an art school where the Communist Party ruled almost every aspect of social and academic life. It was not easy for me as a female foreigner. I initially planned to stay for a year, but I ended up staying for 10 years. I began to look for traditional teaching, which of all my new peers found very strange. At the time, according to the Maoist dogmas, it was necessary to make a clean sweep of the past, and it was thought that the study of “old aesthetics and philosophies” no longer had its place in New China.


P: How did your experience studying in China broaden your perspective? 

FV: In France, the teachers at my art school told me that painting was dead, outdated. But in China, the teachers had been trained in the vein of Soviet socialist realism, and they asked their students to paint like Gustave Courbet, for instance. My Chinese peers, of course, had a hard time coming to terms with this and some of them resisted their teachers by imitating the style of Andy Warhol and Rauschenberg, which they perceived as a critique of American consumer society. I wasn’t very interested in either of those practices. Instead, I wanted to transpose an ancestral Chinese pictorial tradition based on fluidity and spontaneity of form. After a bit of convincing on my part, the painter Huang Yuan agreed to pass on his knowledge and practice to me. He allowed me to work alongside him for almost ten years and explore, with exceptional richness, a traditional technique that was disappearing.


P: Was this tradition the vertical painting method?

FV: Yes! Huang Yuan taught me to hold my paintbrush vertically and paint in a flow of movement. When strokes are made vertically, the ink contained in the bristles of the brush drips in the direction of the stroke, matching the original gesture. This method is based on a simple concept; all forms of our universe are governed by the laws of gravity. Painting in accordance with these laws and not in opposition connects the brush with the forms that resonate around us. 


P: How have you incorporated these principles into your practice?

FV: So, when I returned to France in 1992, I started working on a much larger scale. I went from using paintbrushes the size of say, a pencil or screwdriver to brushes the size of a garden rake. The diameter and weight of my brushes became so large that I had to fasten them to bicycle handlebars and hang them from the workshop ceiling with ropes. After my return to France, I also began painting on linen canvas rather than the traditionally used mulberry fiber paper. On canvas, I could revise my brushstrokes when I wasn’t satisfied with them without having to destroy all the background preparation work. I also put my canvases on the ground, perfectly flat. I wanted to make sure that the energy breathed into the canvas through the act of painting would freeze rather than drip down too much. I wanted to keep that initial fluidity and dynamism. Overall, I would say that I designed these new systems for working because I didn’t want to paint just my hands and arms, but with the energy of my whole body.


Read the full interview in Issue 3.

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