‍Isolation… What a strange word! In our modern society, for example, this word no longer carries the same meaning it once did. In the past, a personal situation described in such terms implied death… Then humanity evolved, and by the 1980s isolation had become a way of life. We live in closer proximity to one another than perhaps ever before, and yet our Western societies suffer from a chronic loneliness, one that slowly erodes the soul… But that is another story…

‍You will notice that isolation and loneliness are often synonymous; they are also born of the same anxieties, the same inner affliction that consumes so many people in our great cities, as Alain Souchon sings so well. But is being alone truly synonymous only with anguish and loneliness? Not always.

‍Isolation is also the daily reality of most painters. Painting is a solitary exercise, and for good reason… There is no technical crew here, and not much fraternity among artists either — not as there once was, in any case. Yet this isolation is often necessary; one must succeed in finding oneself.

‍I have known Claude St-Jacques for many years. Since her beginnings, her artistic expression has undergone many transformations, and yet the thread has always remained the same: an intimate painting style, far more autobiographical than it first appears, sensitive and especially tactile.

‍A few days ago, I saw her recent works for the first time in years. Once again, the caterpillar transforms itself… Yet the source remains the same. It is womanhood, in all that the term implies, and this singularity has often led me to ask the following question: does feminine art exist? An expression belonging uniquely to women and distinct from all others? Certainly. Not so much in aesthetic form as in the manner of presenting and representing the realities of life — there is, without question, a unique perspective there. It is not necessarily better because it is created by a woman; it is different. And that is all to the good.

‍Until recently, Claude St-Jacques’s paintings depicted — though not exclusively — a female body often placed at the center of the canvas, occupying the entire space. Around it, motifs and textures stirred within an intimate chiaroscuro. In short, Claude St-Jacques painted states of being: her emotional states, the states of her heart and body — in truth, her moods.

‍Her recent works open up the frame and teem with figures and objects. They are inhabited by a multitude of new details. The dark tonalities have given way to lighter shades; the rendering is rougher, less tactile, but the line has gained confidence and the drawing has become firmer. Clearly, the artist feels the desire — even the need — to tell stories. To tell stories. Her own story? To open herself to the world?

‍It is in this way that sequences have appeared in her work: the same state developed over a period of time, symbolizing or representing space-time. The result is a series of particularly inspired works onto which the artist grafts other stories, which in turn most often connect to still others — like a sequence of varying length where threads intertwine.

‍The arrangement and presentation of the works thus take on an entirely new meaning connected to the artist’s process. The work no longer exists in isolation; it feeds upon the others. It opens itself, and in doing so transforms into multiple possibilities.

‍Without wishing to impose any hierarchy upon her work, one would strongly suspect that these recent changes signal a newfound confidence in the artist — a confidence that can only foreshadow great and beautiful things to come. It is not a rupture, but a new state of being.

‍And indeed, if you wish to see this for yourself and experience an exceptional exhibition, Galerie Estampe Plus in Québec City is presenting an exhibition of her recent paintings this autumn. Do not miss it!