This young illustrator, a graduate of the Arts Décoratifs de Strasbourg, lives in Nice. She divides her time between press (Vogue, Marianne…), comic books, children’s illustration, and travel journals (“Istanbul, Notebook of the Sublime Porte” Le Rouergue).
She also works for advertising (Le Printemps, Virgin, Rolex…), fashion (Xuly Bët, Isabelle Marant…) and exhibits in Paris, New York, Tokyo, Monaco, and this month in Nice.
Among the useful concepts for the commentary of a work of art, the ideas of cliché and anecdote are diametrically opposed.
A cliché is an effect that belongs too much to everyone and not enough to someone. An anecdote is an effect that belongs too much to someone and not enough to everyone.
For example, a cliché is when a landscape looks like an Air France poster. And an anecdote is when an object draws its sole appeal from a personal memory of the artist, with no interest for others.
The joy of Virginie Broquet’s painting may come from the fact that it stems from these two contradictory qualities.
Characters, objects, landscapes, houses… everything in it is both anecdotal and stereotypical, lived and televised, mental and real – it is a way of painting the truth of a city.
