A Gallery?

Step by step, an idea rising.

The idea did not appear suddenly. It had been with me for a long time, like a quiet murmur. Each journey, each museum, each emotion before a work of art nurtured a sensitivity I never really expressed. Here, in this house, I would sometimes find myself dreaming. I imagined these stone walls inhabited by large canvases, by contemporary works able to converse with the light and the silence of the rooms. But I kept this dream to myself, as if it were too fragile to be spoken aloud.

There was also a selfish side, I admit. The desire to transform my daily life, to bring into it a more intimate relationship with art : closer, less distant than the museums visited along my travels. A need to create a place where beauty would come to me, take root in a familiar space.

Then there was a shift. The almost imperceptible slide from reverie to project. First: “It would be nice to imagine large works on these walls.” Then: “What if we actually exhibited on these walls?” And finally: “What if we opened an art gallery?” Three phrases, three steps. From inner thought to founding gesture.

And so a slightly slumbering family house revealed itself to me as a possible space, not for myself alone, but for others. A place to exhibit, to share, to let emotion circulate.