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A buzz of whispers, musical notes and connivances escape from the paintings, photographs and books. As we approach, we hear a hubbub reaching us. The works of Louis Andrews are noisy: they tell us the story of an encounter. They are the trace of a moment that the artist has shared with a person or a place. Louis Andrews is a collector. He collects these moments, documents them, reproduces them. A device is put in place - that of repetition. The same gesture is repeated several times, when he walks through Paris and its neighbourhoods, through the corridors of the DOC populated by apprentice hairdressers, through Indian restaurants and English bakeries. The protocol is often similar: a geographical area is mapped out and walked through from top to bottom. Its inventory is never exhaustive but, like Georges Perec, he tries to exhaust all the nooks and crannies of the territories he criss-crosses. The artist works in series, but each experience gives rise to a unique account. Through poetry or prose, figurative painting or photography, Louis Andrews densifies reality. He inserts his cultural, literary or musical references, his tastes and desires, to give us a layered reality, populated by narratives - our own and those of others. The narratives he creates are an opportunity to inscribe himself into a temporality, to reactivate personal memories and a common memory. They are the translation of a sensitive cartography. Text by Luce Cocquerelle-Giorgi Audrey Aumegeas loves objects. A little, a lot, passionately. She loves the softness of their skin, the beauty of their reflections, their shapes and imprints, their curves and counter-curves. She likes to play with them, to stage them and invent stories for them, convinced that they cannot be reduced to only their function. She loves their bodies and the hands that have drawn them, the magazine pages that have preserved them, the stalls of second-hand shops that still sell them. She compiles their portraits as if they were superstars, searching for them through every medium: Pinterest, old school books or issues of L'Illustration, the mythical decorating magazine that has ceased publication. A timeless fan who imagines them as icons, hoisting them up onto pedestals and drawing halos around them, reflecting the aura they have for her in all their dimensions. One could say that this relationship is superficial, attaching itself above all to the image, but her love of surfaces is profound. Part Pinocchio, part Pygmalion, she manages to bring them to life through that very love. Her sculptures and drawings are hybrid compositions, where her fetish elements of furniture intermingle and multiply, combine and reproduce, pretending to anthropomorphise themselves in order to better depict the individuals of our species who once used them in another life. The sculptor-drawer is also a playwright; her subjects are characters waiting to be incarnated. The story of a lampshade married to a bird of paradise flower, of a particle board dreaming of being pure oak... Fictions are woven along with the layers Audrey Aumegeas superimposes in one or two dimensions. With tenderness and humour, it is her turn to use her objects. Protagonists of her pieces, they are also the settings in which the artist's hands and know-how passionately play out their role. Text by Horya Makhlouf The line of small gaps - Seeing a wink in a stain or a smile on a surface is an everyday experience. It's a leap of the imagination, a sympathetic phenomenon also known as pareidolia. Loïc Leclercq's work is nourished by these recognitions, of these small perceptions that create familiarity as much as a gap. The artist captures them and assembles them in different albums which, for him, are similar to the practice of journaling. Drawing comes next, like an exercise in concentration. It intersects with motifs that suggest a narrative to the discerning viewer, but nothing is ever fixed. Even in the exhibition room, it is possible to reconfigure the work, to change the assembly of a drawing and its support, to install the sculptures differently and to create different routes. There are very few rules, rather a playfulness in Loïc Leclercq's practice: openings. Although the artist is wary of narration, he multiplies the thresholds, these introductory spaces where the layout of a garden opens up to a promenade, where the repetition of a calendar’s grid opens up time to a parallel year. By integrating the means of hanging into the composition, by a pin that underlines an assembly of images, he deceives the eye. Recovering the smallest remnants of the workshop, playing with wood, cardboard or gum and tape, he creates articulations. Loïc Leclercq, with his neat and regular line, does not go straight to the point; rather he suggests different bushwalks. Text by Henri Guette Anita Sanchez is a sculptor whose hands have recently begun to paint. But whether she is creating flat images or multi-dimensional forms, her work is always a question of intuition, encounters and affects. In other words, one could say that Anita Sanchez is a jack-of-all-trades; as long as the objects in her hands come to life. Up to now, her attention has been focused on common, almost banal objects, all of them flayed. Her latest paintings are mostly scenes of urban meals in which food is the main character. Whether they are oysters, milk cartons or merguez sausages, the objects are as if extracted from their environment and become suspended forms. Form is perhaps not Anita Sanchez's primary interest however, whether she is sculpting, painting or filming; what the artist seeks above all is sensory experiences, the smell of linseed oil and petrol, objects that twist and materials that crumple under her hands. Finally, Anita Sanchez's work is punctuated by a back and forth between inside and outside, between the immediate and the perennial. When Anita Sanchez sculpts, she activates the materials and makes them her own; when she paints, it is her memories that she freezes and inevitably presents to the world. Text by Camille Bardin