Guy Ferrer
Introductory text from the booklet produced for an exhibition at the L’Œil Soleil gallery, Cliouscat, France (1994)

At the very root of primal art lies worship: the object of art, being votive, transforms the artwork into a conduit of forces, both suspected and unsuspected.
Contemporary artists have generally lost the sense of art’s intercessory power, that space between the sacred and the profane. And yet, the artist is a celebrant, an experimenter activating symbolic forces...

How can some artists claim emotional detachment from their work?
How is it possible to remain below the threshold of pleasure, pain, fear, and the sheer joy that creating art brings?

Because the artwork will outlive us, we must strive to give it the strength to endure.
The artwork is alive.
Art is magical.

—

In 1994, I wrote this short introductory text for an exhibition combining contemporary and tribal art. Years later, it still rings true—both in relation to my own creative process and to the works I collect.

I truly believe that artists have the mysterious power to reveal what would otherwise remain invisible or inaudible, and that the revelation they are entrusted with—both weighty and subtle—is an extraordinary and irreplaceable ability.

As such, I believe that this relationship with the invisible clearly belongs to the realm of the sacred. By making themselves available to the higher forces that govern us, the created object appears—thanks to us, or in spite of us.

The African art collection I began building initially consisted of tribal objects, chosen more for their strength or visual interest than for their ethnological meaning within the groups from which they originated—ethnographic knowledge was never my primary concern.

All of these objects came together to form a large, extended family, where the dialogues are rich and sometimes thunderous, depending on how the pieces are juxtaposed.

Over time, the collection has grown to include many more works, which have fed my artistic imagination and opened a wide field of exploration, spanning world cultures and an infinite vocabulary of forms.

In 2018, while exhibiting in Beirut with Pascal Lacombe, I discovered—much to my surprise and delight—the works displayed by the gallery next to ours, especially those of the artist Marc Padeu.

I was able to acquire them thanks to the support of Cameroonian gallerist Diane N’Gako. These works became, in a way, ambassadors for a broader ensemble that has since grown around them.

It seems to me—without falling into crude generalizations—that contemporary African artists embody both the ancestral traditions that still inhabit them (and which they express more or less consciously) and an attraction to the so-called “Western” world, which strangely draws them in.

Even more curious: while history acknowledged and celebrated the undeniable talents of Black artists in music, song, dance, sculpture, etc.—forms through which they have greatly enriched the world—painting seemed excluded from the skills traditionally ascribed to them, with only a few rare exceptions.

Today, this gap has clearly been powerfully corrected. We’re witnessing a global enthusiasm for these painters and sculptors, who have overcome initial marginalization and now, more or less opportunely, populate galleries and institutions... which calls for vigilance and discernment, justified by the rapid rise of the market around them.

Beyond the immediate pleasure it gives me, the modest collection I started—and hope to continue enriching with new discoveries—is, I believe, a small way to repair this unjust lack of recognition, by showcasing works that are often powerful and fascinating.

It also affirms the transversality of art: sensitivity knows no borders, and it spreads to all who allow themselves to be curious and open to others.

The guiding thread of the collection—free and non-restrictive, but which emerged naturally from the start—explores the aesthetic and spiritual connections that link contemporary African art with Western art in general.

Guy Ferrer