I fancied that the ghosts who had actually haunted the airport (for example when undergoing the paparazzi’s assaults while exiting the Air France Caravelle aircrafts on Orly's tarmac), would fugitively reinvest the premises in my paintings. And for those who had never set foot there, my paintings would give them the opportunity to live again their own heydays, contemporary with that of the airport, and therefore merging in symbiosis with the place by an unabashedly arbitrary decision -mine, in this case.

The music that prevailed in my Orly (South) work sent me back to nocturnal, solitary atmospheres. Dark ambiances where light pulsates but where shadows take over, that of the Film Noir genre. This related to Miles Davis’s prodigious and haunting score, improvised for Louis Malle's so bleak and disturbing masterpiece, Elevator to the Gallows. This music, and some others from that time by Francis Lai and by Michel Legrand do stick to my Orly (South) series, globally and forever as far as I am concerned.
Out of Davis’ music, I produced the first series of paintings that expressed confusion and some feeling of nostalgia for the Glorious Thirty’s lost paradise, that of the legend which assured us that "everything would be fine". Just as beautiful as the stage's decor was, yet one could feel that the play and its protagonists were dysfunctional. Like the Glorious Thirty myth, it became obvious that the splendor was a decoy. Shadow and light quickly merged in these canvases, and with them all that relates to duality : nostalgia and fantasy, the lights of Orly and the darkness of the reign’s end, that of a future that had no future. This is the reason why the characters populating these paintings are what they are : some anonymous puppets with mysterious and uncompassed destinies that collide, but never meet.

After 2011, feeling that I had come full circle with this stage of my work devoted to the decay of the myth, I decided that I would now stress its splendors instead.