Flavio-Shiró is a cult artist, a painter’s painter. His work defies categorization or association with any artistic group or movement. For more than six decades, his work has simply been modern.
I am a french painter, born in 1973 in St. Etienne, a small grey mining town, with a strong worker community.
Enrollment in the Beaux Arts, graduated in painting restauration.
Meeting in 1996 with Nathanael, my husband, life on the road, free and fusional.
To live primarily as a commitment, and clearly influenced by photojournalism, to give, to see – to make happen – my work is changing by facets following our lives and our movements.
Several encounters have had particular significance, especially in Paris with a collaboration with Michel Houellebecq, (two artist books) which led me to explore links in art and literature through an transitory editorial project, A/OVER: 2015/2017.
Perhaps I paint because of Paolo Ucello.
In Florence there is this immense picture, La Bataille de San Romano and when I was a child I had the impression of being part of it, like I was connected with everything, the man, the flesh of the world. I would be able to stay hours there.
Or perhaps I paint by revolt, or because of Brecht.
In September 2000 the television showed the images of a child taken of target by the Israeli army who died in the arms of his father after 30 minutes of shootings. I’m unable to answer it, I haven’t more speech. I want to say something more which is adapted. I began to paint again this year, with rage, to interest myself, to question, to pay attention. I see only that suffering has a common base with humanity. My pallet is saturated with red shadow and ivory and green for corpses. I do not differentiate man from animal. This time, I am at war.
I will need many years to understand another range of feelings, the blood is always present in what I do, but more as instinct of lives, primitive.
My childhood taught me the hidden things, the innocence. What links us, is that my question now? If I could simply touch people, if my painting could become an accompanying song, a breath, a presence …