My work explores the intimate and symbolic relationship between humans and animals — a coexistence imbued with emotion, memory, and balance. Through my paintings and sculptures, I seek to question and redefine our perception of living beings, while blurring the line between the human and the animal — a line that has long been rigid, shaped by centuries of anthropocentric thought. What I aim to express is the profound unity that binds humans and animals — an interconnection we tend to forget in modern societies.
Far from a simplistic or anthropocentric vision, my work is rooted in an anti-speciesist reflection. I strive to reestablish the animal as an alter ego, as a guide rather than a mere allegorical figure. In my work, the animal is not just an external figure, but a metaphor for humanity itself. It embodies love, personal well-being, and the responsibility we hold toward the world. Animals become mirrors of the human soul, reminding us that in order to care for others and the world around us, we must first care for ourselves.
My characters are neither metaphors nor symbols — they are living beings, endowed with their own language, their own presence. They evolve in suspended, ethereal spaces where color, gaze, and gesture weave a universal, instinctive language. These beings represent and question our human condition through the inalienable bond between man and animal. They resonate with a forgotten truth. As Mikael Faujour suggests, inviting us to rediscover the other beyond appearances and separation: “What is outside of us is also within us, and what we perceive through the animal is a reflection of our own nature.” This search resides in the pursuit of a deep balance — the vision of a possible future for our humanity.
My influences draw from artists like Leonardo da Vinci, particularly Lady with an Ermine, which highlights the subtle fusion between woman and animal — a connection that, to me, reflects a lost harmony, a mutual understanding between two worlds. The work of Pieter Bruegel the Elder also inspires me, especially in how he portrays the complex, interconnected relationships among living beings. Paula Modersohn-Becker, Nicole Eisenman, and Germaine Richier also inform my thinking on animality, humanity, and metamorphosis — each in their own way exploring the boundaries between form, flesh, and spirit.
What fascinates me is the idea that the animal, far from being an "other," is a part of ourselves — a fragment of our own essence. As Faujour expresses, “The animal is not foreign to us — it resembles us as much as it surpasses us.” In that recognition lies a path toward a deeper understanding of our place within the living world. This reflection invites us to reconsider the boundaries between human and animal, to understand that every being has its own place and its own language — without hierarchy. Every gaze, every gesture, every form becomes a symbol, a portal to a timeless truth.
Another fundamental aspect of my work lies in the importance of symbols — particularly numbers. The number three, for instance, represents for me the harmony between body, soul, and spirit — three elements that complete one another to form a whole. The number two embodies duality — the coexistence of opposites that creates a balance made of polarities, such as light and shadow. The world itself is made of duality, and there can be no harmony without acknowledging this interaction. Light needs shadow to exist — it is this tension between opposites that forms the dynamic of the universe. The number one, for its part, symbolizes unity and existence — the question of Being in all its complexity, where everything is interconnected. This concept brings me to a fundamental awareness: “I am,” and in that “I am” lies the recognition of our own inner divinity. We are responsible for our actions, for every gesture and every thought contributes to the creation of this world.
In my work, bodies blend and intertwine, gazes lock — with an intensity that is sometimes almost unsettling. These gazes are not there to merely decorate or embellish, but to remind, to question, to awaken. They invite the viewer to silent reflection, to a wordless dialogue that asks: Are we still capable of understanding the language of nature? These eyes — sometimes piercing, sometimes soothing — seek to awaken us to that instinctive part of ourselves, that primordial wisdom buried beneath layers of modernity.
The sculptures I create continue this quest. They are forms reduced to their essence — timeless silhouettes crafted in glazed terracotta or bronze — that seem to emerge from a collective memory, from a time before words. These still figures carry within them an inner strength, a suspended energy, an internalized movement that does not need to be expressed through gesture. They embody hybridization, the ongoing metamorphosis that exists in nature. This fluidity is essential, because as Faujour states, “Metamorphosis is a natural law — everything is transition, everything is transformation.”
Ultimately, my work invites the viewer on a journey through space and time. It is a path where intuition and instinct find their rightful place. It is about reconnecting with that primordial empathy that binds us to all living beings — an effort to rewrite the relationships between humans and animals, between the visible and the invisible.
In a world saturated with noise and speed, my works offer a pause — a moment for reflection — a stillness where silence, the power of gazes, and symbols can reveal a forgotten truth. My art is a call to remember the whole to which we belong. A world where every being, regardless of form, has its place and its role to play.
Mikael Faujour, in the 2019 Rūta Jusionytė Catalogue Preface
