It was born out of a clatter - the clatter of jaws that are too well set, smiles that are too stiff, traditions that clatter more than they warm. Le Claque-Mâchoire is the echo of a decorative soldier, frozen in his function, condemned to take pride of place at the centre of family meals where laughter is too polite, silences too heavy and opinions too clear-cut.
Draped in red and adorned in gold, he observes without flinching the political speeches, the criticisms disguised as compliments, the unsaid things that pile up like dishes. He's not a nutcracker, no. He's the guardian of mechanical rituals, the mute witness to festive tensions, the one who snaps when words no longer suffice.
Every button is an injunction, every shoulder pad a locked memory. It doesn't protect - it watches. It doesn't speak - it repeats. And as it clatters, we hear traditions spinning out of control, smiles cracking, roles frozen.
This work is a gentle satire. A grimace turned sentinel. She says: "I draw what I see in objects that are too well arranged, in parties that are too well orchestrated. And if it makes you cringe, so much the better." It's a return to the frozen absurd, to childhood in doubt, to that night when you dreamt of a world where soldiers smile... but no longer know why.
A self-taught illustrator, I create a soft, contrasting universe where the cute rub shoulders with the dark, inspired by deep forests, imaginary creatures and intuition.
My style - which I call 'Chiselled Cartoon' - combines clean lines, discreet symbolism and a minimalist palette. Each illustration is..
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