Sunday 3 June 2012

Thierry Dreyfus

Thierry Dreyfus’s Table basse “Hommage”, 2011, édition de huit
According to Suzy Menkes from the International Herald Tribune, “Thierry Dreyfus is the man who is making the City of Light live up to its name. The designer is the master of the soft glow, bright beams and laser lines. Dreyfus may be an artist with light, but he is too modest to give himself that title or to compare himself with conceptual neon experimenters of the 1980s and with the light installations of the American artist James Turrell”.
We recently saw this table at a gallery on the Rive Gauche during Designer’s Days. It truly glows from within. The effect is absolutely enchanting.
Dreyfus’s description of ‘Hommage’:
Man.
I wanted to reveal a man’s most intimate cleavage, the fracture around which he builds his life… and looking inside this facture, one catches a glimpse of the roof of the world.Stretched in between his aspirations and existence, his inner violence and search for quietness, he finds a balance.Like a scar, the interstice never heals.The wound becomes precious, absorbs light, warms it up to concentrate and irradiate it.From this fracture, a convivial table rises.


Thierry Dreyfus’s Table basse “Hommage”, 2011, édition de huit
According to Suzy Menkes from the International Herald Tribune, “Thierry Dreyfus is the man who is making the City of Light live up to its name. The designer is the master of the soft glow, bright beams and laser lines. Dreyfus may be an artist with light, but he is too modest to give himself that title or to compare himself with conceptual neon experimenters of the 1980s and with the light installations of the American artist James Turrell”.
We recently saw this table at a gallery on the Rive Gauche during Designer’s Days. It truly glows from within. The effect is absolutely enchanting.
Dreyfus’s description of ‘Hommage’:
Man.
I wanted to reveal a man’s most intimate cleavage, the fracture around which he builds his life… and looking inside this facture, one catches a glimpse of the roof of the world.

Stretched in between his aspirations and existence, his inner violence and search for quietness, he finds a balance.

Like a scar, the interstice never heals.
The wound becomes precious, absorbs light, warms it up to concentrate and irradiate it.
From this fracture, a convivial table rises.


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