" Garden Walk" interview
by Grace Hong
July 2015“Art is everywhere you look for it.”- El Greco
Here at ArtHop, this quote drives us to regularly refresh our perspectives in pursuit of new art experiences.
Perhaps Singapore has spoilt our appetites, causing us to look for what’s loud or fashionable in a sea of art; which is why we set a constant reminder to find what moves us.
Julie Navarro’s The Garden Walk is one such work. Quiet and unassuming, her work is an architectural
installation reflecting its natural surroundings. As if the greenery were its habitat, The Garden Walk evokes the mashrabiya—Arabic for a type of window enclosed with carved wood latticework, casting spectacular patterns under sunlight. Walking upon the work, one travels to another time and place; The Garden Walk a mise en scène for a romantic mode.
Though this is the first time she has used architecture and mosaic tiles, the Parisian artist has used various mediums such as painting, sculpture, photography, collage, video, and even embroidery. Before she left Singapore, we grabbed the chance to find out what moves her.
What brought you to Singapore, and what is your impression of it?
I came to set up The Garden Walk, at the Singapore Pinacothèque de Paris. Laurent Guinamard-Casati, the architect of the new museum, had encouraged me to integrate the architecture of the Fort Canning Arts Centre. I think that Singapore is a very vibrant city, so multicultural and open to the propositions of international artists. The city of Singapore has proved capable of seizing the crucial role that contemporary art can play within our society. Beyond the glamorous image of the art market, contemporary art should reflect the dynamics of our ever changing society, and thus reveal new insights, new forms of truth and beauty.
How did you become an artist, or rather, when was the distinct moment in your life you decided to pursue this for life?
It’s a twofold phenomenon: you are born artist, and you become one through practice. Through the
knowledge of art history, the exploration and the permanent confrontation with the world, through keen observation of your surroundings and the overwhelming urge you feel to bring forth a fresh look on the world to reveal new or unseen wonders.
The decision to live from your art arises from a deep necessity, an intimate and sensitive need, but also an imperious, physical one that comes along with a clear awareness of what this implies in terms of everyday work and struggles. I am glad that I have taken this radical step, because I am never totally satiated when it comes to scrutinising and trying to understand the wonders of the world, and of the human beings who comprise it.
I have been able to chart my own artistic path and to enjoy remarkable life experiences, notably during my political mandate in Paris, where my engagement and work within the community never estranged me from art, but strongly stimulated my imagination throughout the various projects I initiated and took part in.
You have an impressive repertoire of artworks spanning various disciplines such as painting, sculpture, photography, collage, video, and even embroidery. How do you decide which medium to use for a new work? Do you attach specific subjects/emotions to each medium?
My works use many techniques, as varied as can be to inspire my projects and states of mind and being: for example, painting is a very gestural, sensuous medium. On the other hand, embroidery, with the slow pace and repetition of the needle’s movements that it implies, carries me away to imaginary worlds with a narrative and literary dimension.
Sometimes, also, it is the very constraints of an open call or a specific tender that leads me towards the discovery of a new medium. That’s precisely the case of my mosaic work in Singapore, The Garden Walk.
But if you take a closer look at it, it looks in fact like a large scale embroidery work!
If every technique has got its own qualities, on the plastic as much as on the emotional level, my work as a whole revolves around a desire for dialogue with the world, to reveal my most intimate visions and the world’s hidden beauties.
What was the inspiration behind creating an imaginary Spanish garden?
When the Singapore Pinacothèque de Paris asked me to design a Spanish garden in mosaic tiles, with the idea of creating a romantic dialogue between the corridor and the park around the museum. I wanted to avoid a narration that would feel too explicit, predictable, and decorative. Right from the onset, I focused my attention on the motive of the mashrabiya—the typical window of a Spanish patio. It creates a very intimate and romantic atmosphere, conveyed by the grid pattern of its screens through which a warm and dense light penetrates.
I decided to design a trompe- l’œil effect created in mosaic tiles: in front of each window of the corridor that runs behind the museum’s façade, the shadow of a mashrabiya is cast on the ground. By playing on the poetical and visual transmutation of the shadows - between what one can see, and what one can only guess -, and thus transforming our space-time framework, I wanted to bring forth invisibility as the aesthetic principle of the sublimation of our senses, and a true propeller for the visitor’s imagination. As the latter strolls along the corridor, he is unconsciously drawn towards the world of the Spanish garden, evoked through the variations of light and shades cast on the floor, and through the piece of floral landscape that gushes out like a river of flowers at the crowning point of the gallery’s perspective.
My work, covering a surface of 120 square meters becomes integrated into an architecture where the inside and the outside echo each other. The architect, Laurent Guinamard-Casati, is very keen on dialogue which enhances architecture, and at the same time creates an impact on the environment and its sensorial perception. His own work is grounded in the values and the aesthetics of human heritage, and to him light (and therefore shades) is a material and a structure by itself.
What do you hope visitors will feel when they encounter your work?
I hope the concept will have an emotional impact on the visitor: that his perceptions are blurred, that he feels like he has embarked on an unconscious journey out in the imaginary garden; and that the shadows reveal other worlds, as splendidly described in the book “In Praise of Shadows”, by Japanese writer Tanizaki. I was very glad and surprised to see that youngsters attending the opening of the museum spent a lot of time taking pictures in this space, playing with the effects of the corridor. Those pictures have been shared and liked on social networks like Instagram.
Though this is the first time she has used architecture and mosaic tiles, the Parisian artist has used various mediums such as painting, sculpture, photography, collage, video, and even embroidery. Before she left Singapore, we grabbed the chance to find out what moves her.
What brought you to Singapore, and what is your impression of it?
I came to set up The Garden Walk, at the Singapore Pinacothèque de Paris. Laurent Guinamard-Casati, the architect of the new museum, had encouraged me to integrate the architecture of the Fort Canning Arts Centre. I think that Singapore is a very vibrant city, so multicultural and open to the propositions of international artists. The city of Singapore has proved capable of seizing the crucial role that contemporary art can play within our society. Beyond the glamorous image of the art market, contemporary art should reflect the dynamics of our ever changing society, and thus reveal new insights, new forms of truth and beauty.
How did you become an artist, or rather, when was the distinct moment in your life you decided to pursue this for life?
It’s a twofold phenomenon: you are born artist, and you become one through practice. Through the
knowledge of art history, the exploration and the permanent confrontation with the world, through keen observation of your surroundings and the overwhelming urge you feel to bring forth a fresh look on the world to reveal new or unseen wonders.
The decision to live from your art arises from a deep necessity, an intimate and sensitive need, but also an imperious, physical one that comes along with a clear awareness of what this implies in terms of everyday work and struggles. I am glad that I have taken this radical step, because I am never totally satiated when it comes to scrutinising and trying to understand the wonders of the world, and of the human beings who comprise it.
I have been able to chart my own artistic path and to enjoy remarkable life experiences, notably during my political mandate in Paris, where my engagement and work within the community never estranged me from art, but strongly stimulated my imagination throughout the various projects I initiated and took part in.
You have an impressive repertoire of artworks spanning various disciplines such as painting, sculpture, photography, collage, video, and even embroidery. How do you decide which medium to use for a new work? Do you attach specific subjects/emotions to each medium?
My works use many techniques, as varied as can be to inspire my projects and states of mind and being: for example, painting is a very gestural, sensuous medium. On the other hand, embroidery, with the slow pace and repetition of the needle’s movements that it implies, carries me away to imaginary worlds with a narrative and literary dimension.
Sometimes, also, it is the very constraints of an open call or a specific tender that leads me towards the discovery of a new medium. That’s precisely the case of my mosaic work in Singapore, The Garden Walk.
But if you take a closer look at it, it looks in fact like a large scale embroidery work!
If every technique has got its own qualities, on the plastic as much as on the emotional level, my work as a whole revolves around a desire for dialogue with the world, to reveal my most intimate visions and the world’s hidden beauties.
What was the inspiration behind creating an imaginary Spanish garden?
When the Singapore Pinacothèque de Paris asked me to design a Spanish garden in mosaic tiles, with the idea of creating a romantic dialogue between the corridor and the park around the museum. I wanted to avoid a narration that would feel too explicit, predictable, and decorative. Right from the onset, I focused my attention on the motive of the mashrabiya—the typical window of a Spanish patio. It creates a very intimate and romantic atmosphere, conveyed by the grid pattern of its screens through which a warm and dense light penetrates.
I decided to design a trompe- l’œil effect created in mosaic tiles: in front of each window of the corridor that runs behind the museum’s façade, the shadow of a mashrabiya is cast on the ground. By playing on the poetical and visual transmutation of the shadows - between what one can see, and what one can only guess -, and thus transforming our space-time framework, I wanted to bring forth invisibility as the aesthetic principle of the sublimation of our senses, and a true propeller for the visitor’s imagination. As the latter strolls along the corridor, he is unconsciously drawn towards the world of the Spanish garden, evoked through the variations of light and shades cast on the floor, and through the piece of floral landscape that gushes out like a river of flowers at the crowning point of the gallery’s perspective.
My work, covering a surface of 120 square meters becomes integrated into an architecture where the inside and the outside echo each other. The architect, Laurent Guinamard-Casati, is very keen on dialogue which enhances architecture, and at the same time creates an impact on the environment and its sensorial perception. His own work is grounded in the values and the aesthetics of human heritage, and to him light (and therefore shades) is a material and a structure by itself.
What do you hope visitors will feel when they encounter your work?
I hope the concept will have an emotional impact on the visitor: that his perceptions are blurred, that he feels like he has embarked on an unconscious journey out in the imaginary garden; and that the shadows reveal other worlds, as splendidly described in the book “In Praise of Shadows”, by Japanese writer Tanizaki. I was very glad and surprised to see that youngsters attending the opening of the museum spent a lot of time taking pictures in this space, playing with the effects of the corridor. Those pictures have been shared and liked on social networks like Instagram.