A deep green makes an appearance. It comes to meet
the raspberry.
I watch them for a long time. The dark shade glides over the
light one. Then a yellow appears.
At the far end of the garden, a yellow hesitates; it remains
almost invisible.
It takes up very little space. I could almost
not see it.
Yet, ever since it arrived, everything has changed.
The green breathes differently. So does the pink.
I look at the yellow. Its presence is minimal, but
its effect extends beyond its outlines.
So I begin to look differently at what
I am doing.
I add a little yellow. I take some away. I reduce the
area. I move it. Each change allows me
to observe the extent to which this colour affects
the drawing.
It is no longer just its presence that
I am examining, but the relationship between the amount
applied and what it produces around it.
I could enlarge the yellow, give it
more area, make it immediately
visible. But that would be a different experiment. Here, I
am, on the contrary, seeking to keep its presence
to a minimum.
How much of its area can it lose whilst
still having an effect?
Drawing allows me to put this question to
the test. I reduce the amount of yellow and
observe what remains of its effect.
A colour can occupy very little space and
alter areas it does not touch. Its
influence does not stop where the pigment has
been applied.
I discover that the most
discreet presences often shift the
deepest balances.
I return to the yellow.
If I measure only the surface area it occupies,
its significance seems minimal. If I observe what
changes around it, that measurement is no longer sufficient.
The visible space occupied by a colour and the scope of its
effect do not necessarily coincide.
Yellow remains almost invisible.
Its effect, however, is anything but.
Find Juliette Savaëte on her official website: www.juliettesavaete.fr
