Back in the day, Michelin was everywhere, practically a monopoly—there were Michelin-branded shops, even Michelin-run clinics. Today, things have improved. The company now invests in Clermont’s cultural life, aiming to attract high-level professionals such as engineers.
How would you describe the portrait of the city today?
When I arrived in 1975, there was no contemporary art scene here. It was a city stuck in tradition, almost asleep. Since the Industrial Revolution, Clermont has been known as a workers' city, dominated by Michelin, with little focus on culture.
What was Clermont like in the past?
In the Middle Ages, there was an art school in Clermont-Ferrand where students worked for the king, crafting stained glass, wooden furniture, and carpets. At the same time, ceramics from China were traded through Amsterdam before arriving here.
Can you tell us an old story about Clermont-Ferrand?
I don’t see myself as a creator—I simply present an alternative perspective, drawing attention to objects, natural processes, and their connection to human actions. In some of my symmetrical works, one might see either a tree or an atomic bomb—it depends on the viewer.
How do you see your artistic practice?