Petite langue... 1985

Curator: Welcome. Today we are looking at Olivier Debre's "Petite langue...", created in 1985. It seems to be executed in oil paint. Editor: Mmm, my first impression is the mood—sort of melancholic sunset, tinged with a hint of something just beyond my grasp, like a memory fading at the edges. Curator: Yes, quite. Notice the dominance of horizontal planes: a lower expanse of warm, earthy tones bleeding into a cerulean band that evokes the sky, and then an upper register where pigment accumulates in almost sculptural strokes. Editor: That 'sky' bit looks more like troubled waters if you ask me. But troubled in a poetic way! Reminds me a bit of Turner, swirling vortex and whatnot, though less dramatic. Is it pure abstraction, do you think? Or did Debre have a specific landscape in mind? Curator: Hard to say definitively. Semiotically speaking, the painting invites multiple interpretations, eschewing concrete referents for suggestion and evocation. One could consider it an exploration of the horizon line and how this functions as both divider and unifier. Editor: See, for me, that smudge of green and orange? That's my anchor. Makes me think of the French countryside, maybe the Loire Valley, impressionistic brush strokes hinting at vineyards. Totally subjective, I know! But the titles adds to it: 'little tongue'... is the river talking to us? Curator: "Little tongue…" The title adds an interesting layer, certainly, lending itself to a psychoanalytic reading of the id and desire—the unarticulated, the repressed breaking through the ordered structure of representation. Editor: Or maybe Debre just liked the way those colours look together! Artists are allowed to just do stuff, right? Still, there's something compelling in its quietude, this little "tongue". Almost dares you to lean closer. Curator: Indeed. In its restrained palette and deliberate composition, "Petite langue..." reveals Debre's nuanced engagement with abstract expressionism. It encapsulates his ongoing project to create deeply contemplative experiences, inviting the viewer into a space of sustained visual and emotional reckoning. Editor: And for me? A reminder that even in the murkiest sunset, or roughest painting, there is a story to find if we dare to search. Or listen.