Armand Dupuy writes about the work of painter Julie Torres.
Dupuy notes: "It might seem strange, but discovering the artwork of Julie Torres, has led me to sense a resurgence of those feelings I'd first had when seeing Degas' L'étoile. I've relocated that sense of wonder, that sense of discrete shock, of eyes flung wide open. Some of Torres' paintings depict something like small, flipped-over hills, or even craters or burned-out holes somehow suspended in their tumult. Even in their extreme simplicity, her works present our eyes with an astonishing spread. Sections of color abut one another in cramped spaces, while different sorts of tack-like crushed objects dig into the paint as if they're resting beneath a veil of dissimilation. Yet the paint is at once the exterior and the interior of her paintings. She constructs her volumes patiently—volumes that pique our deepest uncertainties by leaving us incapable of naming them. Uncertainties, but not because the world has overcome us and rendered us unsure or silent. Rather, the uncertainties Torres' works generate pertain to our ignorances, weaknesses and senses of incompleteness."
The original text is in French. Scroll down the post for an english translation by Paul D'Agostino.