Art Expo valcin2

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Valcin in his studio



About Me 1947-2010
I am a man from the South. I have always believed that the fact of having been born in Jeremie, Haiti constitutes a sort of duty to be an artist. To be born in Jeremie is to be an artist even before one starts to talk and walk. Sometimes, a Jeremien (people who are born in Jeremie) can doubt, over what artistic production he/she wants to embrace, but the winds that come from the sea and the gallops over the street of that city heat up the spirit of the people. Therefore, activate the creative capacity and incline that person to be a certain way, which is within the artistic mode, an artistic way of seeing the world.

The same way it is said that the poem is Jazzthe dance of reason; my South is the creativity of my North. Therefore, if Jeremie is the city of my dreams and of my mythical wanderings, Port-au-Prince has become the place of my certainties, of my reason, of logic itself. While Port-au-Prince is the city that forces me to anchor myself in what is real, Jeremie continues to be the core of my imagery. On the other hand, music has always fascinated me, Jazz most of all. Jazz transports me and I think that I am not mistaken if I affirm that many of my pictorial gestures are inspired by Jazz. It inspires me to bring life into my work.

I was born in Jeremie on March 6, 1947. A year later, in 1948, my parents went to settle in Port-au-Prince, but the racket of the capital did not strangle in me the morning serenade of the winds of Jeremie. After a year, my parents were separated from each other. This fact was another tear of my life, after being moved away from my native city. This is the reason, perhaps, that my painting is one of shocks, of blows, which aBoat Peopledopt naturally the themes of my migration. The pains of separation, of the court, of exile, are, for me, a known landscape and all other sufferings have one voice, that of the winds of my infancy in Jeremie, winds that come from seas. The same winds that "Boat People" defy. The trumpet of Miles Davis sings, as much the lament of desperate souls, as that of the bodies that are in the abyss of the cold water of the Atlantic. After the separation of my parents, I spent a few years in my father's bachelor apartment. I have to admit that he did all that was possible to distance me and drive me away from my artistic vocation. He threw away all my materials, under the pretext that they could dirty the furniture. However, these hold upon my artistic goals did nothing more than fortify them. The same thing occurred with my uncle Gerard Valcin, who at first did not show much enthusiasm toward my artistic vocation.

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