Heaven, ocean, shores and horizons, are assembled in the solitude of indecisive, morning or twilight hours. The light seems to emerge from a long time ago, a distant duplicated by the sea. Strangely, the whole seems to exist in a space that is not ours, but contradicts identifiable presences: beacons, dikes, lighthouses , jetties, walks. Unusual constructions call to guess their uses. From the sea emerge skins of foam licking the sand, clinging to the pebbles, bursting on the rocks, and remaining there, retained in the moment.
Jules Valentin plays stable and unstable. He orders and gathers elective places in images with rarefied, deep and silvery colors. Their sight suggests a freshness as brought by the breath of the sea, the movement of the sea, or by the sliding then the stop of time.
John Burnell, 2016