Meet the Artist
When a story is “out of time,” it occupies a paradoxical setting, one that is vague yet familiar. Such stories concern archetypes: heroes, goddesses, and clowns with thousands of faces, characters that are wildly different yet always the same.
Like these myths, the narrative paintings of Anne Bachelier glimmer in the darkness of our collective unconscious.
She inhabits three worlds; the world of reality, the world of her family and friends and that world which has existed inside her head since her earliest memories. It is this third world that populates her drawings and paintings.
Yet the lines, shapes, and colors of Bachelier’s world reflect our own. Her surrealism keeps one spindly tendril curled around the tangible sensations of nature. Her hand flourishes a precise, leafy filigree. The temperature of her chill fog, her dragon heat, is felt as if the supernatural beings were in the room with us, breathing.
A Bachelier painting is an open door. It ticks off the possibilities, and we choose which ones to enter—or loiter for a while in the silky atmosphere, dwelling on the iridescent threshold between worlds. —Clare Welsh