Congregation
11 June – 23 July 2021
Painting is an energy. Not only does Todd Bienvenu know this, he revels in it. In this new series of paintings gathered for the Congregation exhibition at Galerie Sébastien Bertrand, the artist turns up the heat and tears his shirt.
Todd Bienvenu has never hesitated to fill his paintings with self-mockery. He took us with him to drunken parties by the neighbours’ pool. He staged us in our most intimate and almost shameful moments with a very thick and chromatically dense touch. Here, he reopens the doors of concert halls and slams from the stage, carried by a jubilant crowd.
If live shows allow music to become a collective experience, painting can seem to cling to an elegant egotism. For some, painting is a reflection of itself, born in the silence of the studio. Yet the practice of painting is to perceive a swarming, a crowd screaming behind each brushstroke. His practice demonstrates that there is nothing sequential about time. To paint is simply to listen to the same concert as all those who have painted before us. It is literally propelling yourself into the void, hoping that none of those on the other side will step aside. Todd Bienvenu knows this and that is what he paints in this series.
Todd Bienvenu, Church, 2021
Like all music lovers, Todd Bienvenu also perceives this moment of suspension with melancholy. If the studio work allows us to sense the ghosts and enjoy their presence, life is at the door. The artist knows that it is not enough to listen to a live album for the collective energy to carry us. You have to know how to face the world, transcend its weaknesses and contradictions. If all paintings fortunately escape their creator one day or another, the artist must take his place among the crowd like everyone else.
This strange, unstable and dependent destiny can also have a more introspective and cold counterpart. This is also stated by the pattern repetition in this series of large canvases. I don’t know if Todd Bienvenu will like the reference, but I keep thinking when I see this work of the first track on the B-side of the Talking Heads’ legendary album More Song about Buildings and Food. At a time when David Byrne is turning punk’s energy into absurd despair, this song Artist Only laconically states what could be the haunting fate of contemporary painters:
This is a harsh observation and it resonates even more strongly today as the recent period has curtly stated the place that society intended for artists. But, as a counterpoint, with generosity and humour, I am sure that Todd Bienvenu would add that the desire to believe is not dead as long as we allow ourselves to dream of unforgettable moments without shame or morality.
Samuel Gross