Artist Julien Gardair was born in France in 1976.
He lives and works in Brooklyn, NY. — juliengardair.com
Piero della Francesca.
The Baptism of Christ. c. 1448-50.
Tempera on panel.
Courtesy of the National Gallery, London.
Reaching London from the south of France in the early 1990's was an adventure. We were a loud group of freshmen on a art school field trip. It was our first time.
In a small room of the National Gallery, a mid-size painting faces us. An angel hides behind a tree. It is the only figure to acknowledge our presence, and looks us right in the eye. In the center, stands a pensive man, hands joined over heart. Upon one foot, another man, reaches above his head with a cup. Overhead flies a dove. In the far distance, men converse. Nearer, one bends. His shirt covers his face, exposing his underwear.
Since my early teens, I have been an art geek. On a homemade database, I created archives of art magazines collected at flea markets. Every school break was an opportunity to go to Paris and see all the art shows possible.
I remain in front of the painting long enough to notice that each facial hair has been painted one by one. The paint is thin and transparent. It covers as much as it reveals. My heart beats and my eyes bounce around. I am entranced. Everybody else left. I can not understand the nature of this emotion. The depicted scene doesn't recall any memory. I don't intimately relate to the Baptism of Christ. My knowledge of the Bible comes mostly from painting. I don't even remember knowing much about Piero della Francesca then.
I never felt anything like this. It is physical. Soon, tears come to my eyes.
Julien Gardair