As a child, I discovered art (painting) through the illustrated pages of the Petit Larousse (and sculpture through the statue of Jean Jaurès, which stands in the square facing the glassblowers and miners; the 19th-century bronze sculptures glorifying the physical labor of workers and the maternal duties of their wives along the paths of the Marquis-de-Solage park; and the plaster saints of the Saint-Privat church in Carmaux).
As a teenager, I persevered and randomly bought, at the newsagent’s, small 12-page booklets: Impressionism, Cubism, Expressionism, Pointillism, Manet, Braque, Picasso, Léger, etc.
They contained half-page black-and-white reproductions of paintings. The lower half of each page was devoted to brief explanations.
Once I felt I had understood everything well enough, I moved on to practical exercises, enlarging works onto Raisin paper in gouache and imagining the colors…
My father, convinced of my genius, had no objection to this chromatic freedom!
Very soon I moved on to oil painting on canvas, where I invented my own works “in the style of.”
Around age 19, I bought Painting and Society by Pierre Francastel at a bookshop — a real leap forward in quality!
In that book, I discovered Paolo Uccello and one of his three paintings devoted to the Battle of San Romano (the one in London, titled The Battle of San Egidio).
But still in black and white!
Still in black and white, but that didn’t matter; I asked for nothing more — the text was what mattered most.
Francastel’s text deals with the successive systems of spatial representation from the Middle Ages to the early 20th century.
Uccello painted his battles in the Quattrocento, at a time when emerging equine perspective was attempting to replace existing solutions. He was still a prisoner of traditional forms and, at that decisive moment, was trying to experiment with something new…
It is a theatrical scene in which one can be certain that the horses — all identical — are made of wood and run on planks in front of a stage curtain that serves as a backdrop and indicates the location of the action: the hills of San Romano, where peasants, utterly indifferent to the unfolding history, are hunting rabbits.
Moreover, it is not a religious subject, from which Renaissance artists were gradually beginning to distance themselves. What a relief!
Before reading that book, I had focused my interest on Cubist modes of representation, because they challenged the laws of perspective by depicting an object from multiple angles simultaneously — as well as on the Futurists, who for their part introduced the concept of speed.
The laws! The laws of perspective!
At the time, I did not yet know that cavalier perspective (the monocular view of a man on horseback) had not always been self-evident, but that this mode of representation had been invented by Quattrocento artists in the wake of a humanist intellectual revolution that no longer placed God at the center of the universe.

A trained illustrator, I have worked in advertising, journalism, children’s book publishing, the textile industry, and tableware design.
I discovered sculpture through evening classes at the Edinburgh College of Art, where I lived for three years.
It was a revelation: my hands seemed to glide over the clay on their own, without my mind intervening. It was instinctive — my fingers knew where to hollow out the material and where to add it to give shape to a face or a body.
Back in France, I fulfilled my childhood dream by settling in Provence. But the guesthouse I built to make that dream a reality did not leave me the time I had hoped for to devote myself fully to my passion.
Today, I finally allow myself to redefine my priorities and find my way back to my studio, to dedicate myself to what moves me deeply.
For a long time, female faces were a source of inspiration, but my ever-deepening connection with nature has finally found its expression in my work. The many hours spent in forests, mountains, by lakes and rivers have given birth to plant-like women — solitary Amazons, dreamers, warriors, contemplatives, or celestial beings — yet all firmly rooted in the earth from which they seem to emerge.

I have been working as a ceramicist for many years, after studying clinical psychology and a brief experience as an educator. I am the son of a potter; the family workshop was located in Seillans in the Var.
My influences in ceramics range from the familiar — such as glazed Mediterranean faience and traditional pottery of the South — to the distant, like Japanese ceramics, which have inspired several generations of ceramicists. In Japan, ceramics are considered one of the most important arts, and some ceramicists are honored with the title of a Living National Treasure. Later, I discovered Terra Sigillata, the technique used by the ancient Greeks and Romans — a return to the Mediterranean!
During my long career, I have participated in numerous exhibitions – too many to list here – as well as in public and professional fairs such as Maison et Objet. I have taught ceramics at the École d’Aubagne, which trains professionals, and in 2010 I founded a continuing education center for ceramists and other artists. This continuing education center is located at the Tuilerie Bossy in Valabre, near Gardanne. My desire is to convey this demanding art, in which technique and creativity go hand in hand.
Ceramics continues to fascinate me, as it is an endless playground that allows room for constantly renewed creativity.

Although I studied painting at the art academy in my home country and pursued a career as an artist, my life took a new turn that led me to France, where I became an English teacher. After my retirement, I picked up the brush again and was finally able to devote myself fully to this passion, which had never left me. Since 2013, my work has reached a maturity that allows me to exhibit my pieces, usually once a year. Here is what the art critic Charlotte HENRY says about my work in PUBLIKART: ‘Alison Martinenq, an artist of Scottish origin, draws her inspiration from the contrasting landscapes of the Luberon, where she has lived for over 20 years. A true “dream world,” the Luberon is for contemporary artists what Normandy was for the Impressionists: a true land of inspiration.’ Alison Martinenq created her first works in watercolor. For her more abstract works, she then turned to oil painting, a technique she considers ‘liberating.’ As a self-taught and passionate artist, Alison Martinenq tries to convey deep emotions through landscapes and scenes bordering on abstraction. From the Calanques to imaginary landscapes, from Provence to Amsterdam – each painting attests to a ‘unique adventure.’ In this painterly style, color determines the rhythm of the composition (to the great dismay of the Poussinists!). Less deconstructed than Cubist painting, more geometric than Impressionist canvases, Alison Martinenq’s works have a very distinctive style. Through color and brushstroke, they evoke deep emotions.

Jean Sébastien Barbet integrates his training as a chef and lives this passion with every fiber of his being.
A lively and passionate expression: For many years he has been transforming ingredients into fleeting and colorful works of art, characterized by a variety of textures and sensual flavors.
Creativity lies in his vision and in his hands. Wood, this raw and authentic material, exerts a special fascination on him. When he works with it, the boundaries blur and time becomes fruitful: He draws his inspiration from the essence of nature itself, from the grain and growth rings of the wood.
With chainsaws, angle grinders, and chisels, his hands shape and transform this noble material into unique pieces, rich in detail and emotion. Sculpture and the culinary arts are two very different forms of expression, yet they connect and converge in artistic expression.
As a self-taught artist, surrounded by his family and friends, SJS SCULPTURE was founded in 2021 and held its first exhibition in Provence in June 2023.
Gradually, wood is becoming the natural extension of his creativity.