Natasha Krenbol - Self-portrait

to Naïma

The share of shadow

Painting is like writing poetry, catching the wind
Wings to soar above life, as Vincent Van Gogh said
Wisdom resides perhaps in the acceptance of some folly in your life

I have painted a great deal since childhood, very early passionate about hieroglyphs
calligraphy, maps of the world, graffiti

I try to be simple with simple means
pigment, canvas, paper, colour pencils
At the beginning there is chaos
I grind the material, I invade the surface, I reserve, I scrape
An archaeological dig — chaos-logical art
The canvas slowly brews
I never know what I'm going to show
I discover it while painting
and I love this unexpected part in the process of invention

To paint the world onto yourself, not yourself onto the world (Deleuze & Guattari)
A half-seen image soon brings another
then another
The painting builds itself up, layer after layer
until it finds a balance, a suspension

I do not paint the world, but my gaze upon the world
The brush makes no hierarchy between the human and the animal
That is perhaps what makes painting so precious to me
Painting is not so much a profession as a way of life
a way of relating to reality
archaic and untimely
Only one who does not allow himself to be blinded by the lights of the century and manages to glimpse in them the share of shadow, their dark intimacy, can call himself contemporary, writes Giorgio Agamben

N. K.

Bastet
In this world we walk
On hell's roof
And we look at the flowers. Issa Kobayashi (1763-1828)

education

1978-1982

École Nationale Supérieure des Beaux-Arts, Paris

1985-1986

Kala Institute, Berkeley, California

group exhibitions

solo exhibitions

Camarillo

Nourished at the sources of blues, jazz, and the ancestral music of all the continents, Natasha Krenbol is among those artists whose global culture and mixed blood seem to contain the memory of every vanishing ethnic group: one in a family of primitive and cosmopolitan poets who belong to the larger family of endangered Mother Earth.

Her works draw their inspiration from what is commonly termed the "Third-World" and from contact with countries where life is simple and resources are often scarce. No wonder that her works should open frontiers, which in her opinion, should have disappeared long ago.

In the process, another mental life became familiar to Krenbol. For her, "objective chances", signs, encounters form a web that makes everyday life mystical in an age when life itself is surrealistic.

For her, painting is total commitment, a way of life, of breathing, as is music that accompanies her everywhere. She offers us the possibility of seeing other tunes and other blends. Her paintings are full of life: there everything dances and everything moves.

Animals, plants, human beings, imaginary creatures, all beings are of equal merit in Krenbol's universe, where the small and the great are of equal importance in the eyes of the Creator. One senses a particular tenderness for the one thousand and one small, essential details of contingency, which form the miracle and the charm of existence.

It is here perhaps that resides the secret of what gives so much life to these works: the superimposition of at least two worlds, two concerns, at variance and at the same time complimentary, just as in life. Poetry rediscovers the space of free expression, and one senses the freshness of an unfettered and talented improvisation.

Laurent Danchin

writer, art critic — translated by Elaine Walsh

Triomphantes vibrations

the Krenbol pulse

By playing with "reserves", Natasha Krenbol's creatures, like fragments of reality temporarily detached from the world, parade graffitied and stained — rude, to say the least. Their dancing poses of enjazzed animals let one guess the smile that accompanied their invention (let us rather say revelation).

This rowdy, carnival-like painting is the work of a person deeply moved, as is necessarily anyone who can see that mankind walks on its head. Our effigies are more alive than us; more animal and musical, more friendly. Unlike us, our Krenbolized doubles do not kill, do not plunder, do not dream of being predators. They are authentic savages, inhabitants of Utopia, that timeless non-place, the nomadic retreat of poets and resistant sages.

Natasha Krenbol has clearly learned more from African streets than from Old Europe's museums. She considers storytellers and bluesmen wiser than bourgeois aesthetes, and paints as a non-aligned worker, heedless of fashions and mercantile diktats. She was a crow in a previous life.

I recently acquired one of her canvases showing two blind men guiding each other through chaos. Noticing this image, impressive in its savagery, a visiting craftsman declared solemnly: "it pulses". One could not put it better.

Enzo Cormann, March 2007

writer, playwright