Faille,  Silver print,  2021-2023
Faille 1,  2021
Faille 2, 2021
Faille 3, 2022
Faille 4, 2022
Faiille 5, 2022
Faille 6, 2023
  Faille explores a world rid of human beings, but where their traces remain, as if they had suddenly disappeared, without us knowing how or why.  The series is distinguished by a radical gesture: the tearing of the photographic negative. Reality interrupts the reality of the image. It brings back the gesture, echoing an otherwise acheiropoietic medium. This artifice invites the viewer to imagine a story, but also to question his or her links with memories. It encourages us to be aware of the ephemeral nature of photography, and to recognize that these are only representations of reality, not reality itself. The landscapes presented are familiar places that offer viewers the opportunity to project their own memories, narratives and meanings.

To create is to remember, 16,5 cm x 13 cm x 2 cm, 2024residency project, rouvrir le monde, DRAC PACA
made with the support of the ministry of culture
Avez-vous oublié votre mot de passe ? , 70cm x 50xcm,2024
A pointless question appears on the screen.

Facial recognition and automated authentication systems make forgetting paradoxically impossible.

By delegating the handling of our memories to machines, what is left of our own perception of the past?

Memory, fragmented and transformed, ends up blurred, distorted and out of focus.

Empty Orchestra, 2min38, 2025 
Empty Orchestra is a karaoke-style video that reappropriates the visual codes of the 1980s–90s: blue background, yellow text, and the familiar rhythm of scrolling lyrics. Each frame features a lyric excerpt from a well-known pop song; when sequenced, these fragments form a new, recomposed song, melancholic despite its seemingly light tone. With the sound removed, the piece engages the viewer’s own memory, relying on their internal recall of melodies and emotional associations to fill in the blanks. The work explores the unconscious dimension of language acquisition through pop culture: how, even before grammar, radio choruses and repeated lyrics shape our first emotional connection to a foreign language. Empty Orchestra, the literal translation of "karaoke" from Japanese, becomes a space of emotional collage, revealing the latent sadness in popular hits and reflecting on our relationship to language, memory, and cultural translation.