Such an old catalpa tree, sculpted by Nature in long, thin and fascinating snake like branches; its shade ceased to refresh the tiny terrace of the Molí d’en Cassanyes a long time ago.
The tree overlooks a pond, created thanks to a dam across a brook running down from the Albères mountains. The mill stopped working ages ago. A sweet little bird has built its nest within its gate : a real kingdom for this “rei menut”*
An slithering grass snake, dizzy from the sun, seeking a secret shadow, leaves a trail in the muddy waters, The branches of two giant plane trees that took root two hundred years ago wave frantically in the wind….. Among all this, lives and works Sébastien Frère…..
A place steeped in history : It is not possible to grow up innocently when you are Henri Frère’s son, a man who was so close to Aristide Maillol. I can almost see the two sculptors in the middle of this large, wild garden haunted by telluric deities, strolling under the foliage, among the acanthus, perhaps building a scheme for Virgile’s illustration…. By her very presence, Raphaëlle, Sébastien’s mother, brings forth the memory of her father, the poet Josep Sebastià Pons who bequeathed his forename to his grandson : Here specifically, Sebastià replaces Sébastien…
Enough said about the origins, the seeds, food for body and soul. Catalunya is the anchor and the roots are what gives the tree its foliage…
What was left to the former artist, was to make good use of whatever Nature provided to use as principal, complimentary tools, his eyes and his hands.
Frère was firstly a ceramist for over 15 years. I met a few of those painters whose hand dabbled a while with clay. As a neolithic sign handed down by those who first knew how to create fire. Sébastien Frère has received such a sign.
I can see in his art the reminiscence of the oldest craftwork : prints, engravings, embossings, scrapings, coatings, evolving colours. Everything is a sign and who cares about knowing which, how and why… the eye orders the hand to brush, smear, erase and create those transparences.
These paintings are not made by chance but by a man whose path is rich with experience and who continues to create.
I never felt comfortable when criticizing and would rather remain silent when looking at a work of art. For me, this is the only way to feel and understand it at its best. An emotion or a feeling may be damaged when expressed in words.
In any case, whether it is representational art or not is no longer the question. We all know that, since the Fauves and the Cubists, a subject does not make the painting and what is shown is what matters, whether it be an apple or the Sainte Victoire**. The paint itself becomes its own subject.
One final word : Frère, the ceramist and master of fire, is also an artist in the kitchen ; whatever he cooks resembles an edible painting. This again shows a real know-how, a genuine and deeply rooted Catalonian gift : all five senses operate in this country where mere living is a treat.
Frédéric Jacques Temple
* rei menut : small king
** relates to Cézanne favourites