Julien Ceccaldi

Sex is Work




Download press release

Reviews: Art in America








Installation Views

click on image to see more
“Si Dios nos ha hecho a su imagen
Si fuera su voluntad
Habría debido sentirse celoso
Del astuto mal habitado
Que interfiere y comparte
La inocencia inmaculada
De mi alma de niño inocente
Querría entender

De esta paradoja
No soy cómplice
Aguantar a otro
En mi resbala
Porque sin lógica
Yo lo dejo
También tan satánico
Como angélico

Si cada vez que lo hablamos
Nos dejamos llevar
Creo que de herencia
Mi silencio es mortal
Me descubres pálida
Fija a tus ojos tan tiernos
Yo podría por accidente
Unas tijeras clavarles”

Letra por Mylène Farmer (Sans Logique, 1988).





Works

Julien Ceccaldi
Four Eyes
2019
Acrylic on canvas
70.87 x 55.12 x 1.57 inches
180 x 140 x 4 cm
Julien Ceccaldi
Crawling Over A Guy
2019
Oil on canvas
70.87 x 55.12 x 1.57 inches
180 x 140 x 4 cm
Julien Ceccaldi
Out the Window Towards the Bavarian Castle
2019
Oil on canvas
70.87 x 55.12 x 1.57 inches
180 x 140 x 4 cm
Julien Ceccaldi
Gloomy Dinner
2019
Acrylic on canvas
70.87 x 55.12 x 1.57 inches
180 x 140 x 4 cm
Julien Ceccaldi
Poppy Flower Field
2019
Oil on canvas
70.87 x 55.12 x 1.57 inches
180 x 140 x 4 cm
Julien Ceccaldi
Guest Coming Over
2019
Oil on canvas
70.87 x 55.12 x 1.57 inches
180 x 140 x 4 cm
Julien Ceccaldi
Closet Under the Stairs
2019
Found banister and acrylic paint on wall
92.32 x 63.39 x 7.48 inches
234.5 x 161 x 19 cm
Julien Ceccaldi
Red Light District
2019
Oil on canvas
70.87 x 55.12 x 1.57 inches
180 x 140 x 4 cm
Julien Ceccaldi
Arachné Hugging Pillow
2019
Acrylic paint on punching bag and chains
38.19 x 14.17 inches
97 x 36 Ø cm

click on image to see all works



“If God made us in his image
If so was His will
He should have taken umbrage
At the ill-inhabited Evil
Who infiltrates and feeds
On the immaculate innocence
Of my gentle child-like soul
I would like to understand

In this paradox
I am not complicit
Suffer, as another
Slips within me
Without logic
I leave myself
As satanic as I am
Angelic.

While each time we chat
We let ourselves drift
I do believe by heritage
My silence is murderous
You find me looking pale
Fixed to your oh so tender eyes
I might just inadvertently
With scissors cleave them”

Lyrics by Mylène Farmer (Sans Logique, 1988).



Back to top