1998 - Jean-Philippe Domecq (novelist and essayist)
The Miles Fusions of Grataloup
We certainly discern signs and marked in the universe of this painter; his titles are often made the echo which suggest some occult fable, primed for whom knows. Its whole work could certainly have for sign of entry this entitled picture “the Tree to messages”. But this picture itself by its composition and its chromatic game is auto-ironic enough so that we feel invited to take literally none of the signs and the symbols which weaved the painter, even when he likes their intimate meaning, universally intimate.
Then, I prefer to redo the road of this world by holding me in what is said to me about it by the strict means of the painting : I prefer that my words re-made the road of a language without words which so carries us beyond what we try to say about it.
I begin with the picture entitled In reality everything is grey. What already makes a second picture a second sign, so to say, on this territory the measurement of which I undertake. Left, the journey! It is the light allied to the material …
" In reality everything is grey " … Let us go, Grataloup, Grataloup in the name of amused fable, let us go … You know well that not, you know well that yes, you know well that, yes, the reality is grey as long as the artist did not give us forms to distinguish it - to distinguish it, to discern it in its components of light only the refraction of which takes out of the grey the various states, the brightness of the material and then, these shape once data to our eye to see finally what we have under eyes but what or we would not see, then " in reality everything " is not "grey" any more of the whole. And thus, yes Grataloup, this title also made roguish echo in the picture. Picture which, as an umbrella seen of down, opens the sky map at which aims the shooter at the bow face of the painter in the arrowed eye. The eye of the painter arrows well and truly our glance and so reveals us what, without the dotted line of its glance- feature and without the veins of his displayed colors, we would not see within what we got used to naming, of a strangely imaginary singular, " the reality ". And it is good because it is necessary, to see, to raise the veil of the common illusion, because the veins of his colors leave to six cardinal points; six, and not four, in this particular world where my journey began. And why does private individual why need that the painting offers us a particular world? Exactly louse to see all the realities which there is in "the " reality.
And what shows us this painter, if we consider at it good? What does he show us, from period to other one of this work which, since the time deploys the leaflet of its map on the main territories and the events which can arrive at an eye in a human life?