In the many objectives of Michèle Battut's work, I think I can discern a constant: She tries to get as close to the object as possible. Things fascinate her by their very presence and it is this stubborn, obsessive presence that she wants to capture on her canvas.
A few years ago, artists in the United States and elsewhere made the decision to take the object where it was, with their hands, and to transport it, naked, raw, into the work: but it was to destroy it: Michèle Battut, only wanting to paint it, on the contrary, gives it a strange affirmative power; she identifies it with its very secure lines, concerned to let us see it, in its sensitive appearance and to make us guess at its secret architecture within.


However, despite the painter's patient submission to the visible, here it is not a question of realism : it is not about proposing this gun or this dish as a form passively removed from a background, but rather of imposing it on us as a vision  the mere existence of which is sufficient to transform its entire plastic environment, such as this egg, all alone, at the top left of the painting, which drags the whole canvas towards it, like a hand pulling a cloth, without however leaving its shell of inertia.


Because she has chosen to play the game, to use only her brush to make things unsettling, Michèle Battut tries - and she does so successfully - to manifest the latent energy of things, either by insisting on the heaviness of a pistol, or, in the same painting and in a contrasted unity, by endowing eggs with a form of frozen flight as if, in this still life work, life itself were soundlessly brushing over the surface of the forms..


This is what leads her in these latest paintings to bestow on them an ambiguous status where the organic and the inorganic penetrate each other: is this inverted, mutilated statue a woman? Is this marble woman who seems to be twisting in pain in fact a statue? This bewitched body imposes its presence to the very extent that it disturbs, that we do not know if we are witnessing, abruptly, a metamorphosis in progress or if life haunts inertia and inertia life, an unstable mixture and as Breton says of beauty, "explosively-fixed" ("explosant-fixe") and yet lasting.


We must follow with the greatest of interests Michèle Battut's enterprise, where after the tyranny of the abstract, all artistic trends are reflected, united and sometimes fight against each other.

Jean-Paul Sartre,
Philosopher and writer