Participating Artists: 

Renaud Artaban

Alex Ayivi
Rosalie Becher
Lucile Gracile
Nicolas Lallemand
Sacha Lefevre
Luca Nuel
Tibo Vincent Ducimetiere
Bruna Vettori

Or Boueux
Ana Bujošević



“You gave me your mud, I turned it into gold.”

— Charles Baudelaire


Or Boueux takes its title from Baudelaire’s alchemical vision—the transmutation of mud into gold, of decay into radiance. Here, darkness becomes fertile, beauty seeps through the cracks of ruin, and what appears broken glimmers with strange vitality. The exhibition gathers works that dwell within this tension, revealing the sacred in the sordid, the poetic in the grotesque. The space itself unfolds as a living tableau—a chamber of transformation where tenderness, humour, and horror coexist.

As you enter, Lucile Gracile’s sculpture rises from the floor like an ancient vessel reborn, an object of ceremony that channels both innocence and spirituality. Behind it, Renaud Artaban’s long term relationships were only cool when divorce wasn’t spreads in black and pink hues—a haunting, seductive vision of two faces (or perhaps flowers) melting into one another. The work evokes the strange romance of decay, where beauty persists even as form collapses.

Next, Rosalie Becher’s The Sweetest Summer Tooth turns psychological repetition into sculpture. Her delicate grids and open structures recall vents, boxes, and boundaries that refuse closure—metaphors for familial cycles, learned behaviours, and the quiet struggle to break free. In dialogue, Luca Nuel’s watercolours dissolve faces into liquid colour, echoing the myth of Orpheus and the eternal song of loss. The sharpness of Becher’s forms mirrors the fluidity of Nuel’s pigments—two languages of vulnerability, one structural, one emotional.

On the far wall, Nicolas Lallemand’s paintings introduce a surreal, weightless ecology—creatures and skeletons emerging from landscapes that oscillate between collapse and cartoonish absurdity. His hybrid environments reflect ecological anxiety through humour and distortion, a vision suspended between denial and apocalypse. Alongside, Sacha Lefevre’s ceramic installation Maman a tort roots trauma in matter: pierced and spiked trinkets morphing into adolescent bodies. The poem that accompanies the work recalls rebellion, shame, and the ambivalence of home—ceramics that fuse fragility with defiance.

Around the space, Alex Ayivi’s wooden sculptures—small coffins and emblems—stand as playful, poetic totems. Painted with irony and tenderness, they proclaim a soft revolution: death to capitalism. Their presence, scattered like offerings, turns mourning into satire and decay into resistance.

Finally, Tibo Vincent Ducimetiere’s triptych burns with psychic intensity: a past lover, a man aflame mid-air, a rebirth through fire. His figures shimmer between agony and transfiguration, their skins alive with both horror and grace. Beside them, Bruna Vettori’s floating textile Et j’adore aussi tes défauts hovers ghostlike in the dim light—a spectral confession suspended in air.

Together, these works form a chorus of transformation. Within the dark, performative atmosphere of Floreal Belleville, Or Boueux unfolds like a ritual of becoming—mud turned to gold, death into softness, the abyss glowing faintly back at us.