The room is stark, empty, nearly spotless. The initial astonishment gradually gives way to reflection and conjecture. The eye wanders. It enjoys exploring, shaping stories, perceiving beauty. But at this moment, all is white and muted. No screen nor props, no distractions or entertainment. Only bare walls.

After a few seconds, the eye starts to invent. Upturning this inert vision, it delves into dreams... Here a long streak of blue. Universal, powerful, masterful. A single note is all it takes to dress up the space. The imagination grows increasingly fertile. A splash of red. Over there a textured touch of mauve that appears to be applied on skin. Limitations, far from curtailing creation, stimulate it. At present, the room shimmers with a medley of pigments and joyful tones. The eye willingly embraces its renewed surroundings.

Little by little, shapes surge in a whirlwind of colors and materials. Bounding boots, spinning capes, maxi-bag and rippling jewels created by human hands: all converge and intertwine, driven on by the flame of creative momentum. The objects continue their hypnotic waltz. One by one, they settle and then spring up once again, triumphant. Precious, minimalist, ample, flashy. They attract fervent crowds, eager to try them on. Fashion loves dressing up, preening. In one corner, magenta and orange leather merge in a burst of vermilion. Elsewhere, cyan and crimson stones mingle in a polychromatic ensemble. Ultraviolet. Suddenly, nuances and blends reign supreme.

At dusk, as Soulages slowly descends on the Sun King’s garden, accessories discover their new nocturnal backdrop. Darkness has never burned with such fire, reminding passers-by that the party is not over. It is just getting started. With the music in full swing, garçons and demoiselles flock together. For one jubilant evening, reason is swept aside. In the back, Pierrot clowns around while glitter, feathers and florals spice up the festivities.

The wee hours. Silhouettes weave through the shadows in the Jardin des Tuileries. Hints of light pirouette in the darkness, guiding us toward a new dawn.

In late February, feast your eyes on Premiere Classe.

Credits :

Photographer : Flora Mathieu

Artist : Pierre Antoine Ménard