Aly AMIMEUR;is my name. I was born in 1966, not far;from Algiers (Algeria) to the accesses of the plains of Métidja. With the paddle of my adolescence, I;discovered France, a country to the thousand and one colors. I learned how there to speak with the heart;and thus I knew that I had two of them, one for the country who saw me being;born and the different one for that which enabled me to be. My childhood was rocked by the women my;"tribe". These women, whose;tunics chatoyantes merged with the colors that exhibait spring through these;landscapes of countryside, if expensive with my heart. I have this major memory of art to the daily;newspaper; carpets, potteries and;baskets with the Berber reasons, the hot colors collected in nature, which;spoke the language about my ancestors and answered the sun. I remember these women endeavouring to paint;with white lime the walls of the ground houses, like tables ready to receive a;divine inspiration. The flexibility of;the wicker and the delicacy of clay, lived a real happiness between the so;skilful hands of these anonymous artists. They had a perfect knowledge of the harmony of the colors and forms,;they had modesty to be unaware of the kindness of art, indicating all that like;a need and not like an expression dedicated to the inexistence.
These some lines are insufficient to pay the;great homage to them which is owe them. ;All my recognition their is acquired.
France was my "culture medium". Autodidact, I begin with photography. In parallel, I was formed with the;audio-visual techniques, the cinema, the dramatic art and put in scene. A formation with the computer graphics has;perfect my course. During my readings of;technical reviews, I took an advice which appeared very invaluable: (to study the light photographs some through;painting). I was unaware of whereas that;would carry out me so far. Cézanne, Van;Gogh and all the impressionists gave birth to in me a passion without;precedent. Later, the surrealist ones;made me dream; the cubists, Picasso at;their head were right of my investigations and Kandinsky convinced me of its;spirituality and the way to be followed. Rimbaud, Baudelaire and the Others knew to give me the tone of;transitory and very whole eternity.
"When snow melts, where the white goes?" W Shak espeare Said.
Large a Thank you with all the berceurs of;the heart... |