Drawings by Hervé Ringer. Hervé Ringer will mock the images installed until the end of time. He burns the expanse alive, even ravaging it with voluptuousness in feverish, dazzling and sacrificial gestures of art. Its features hallucinate space. Larval, ascetic, archaic and emerging, its vital signs resist collapse. Art of transgressive, mad health, art of trance and rage. Creation is an inner war, and Hervé Ringer assaults the void and goes to the front every day. He never ceases, with infinite and raw delicacy, to prefer the virtualities of graphic sources to the exhaustions of the over-said of images. Beneath the surface, he creates the tremors of the gesture, the chromatic flashes, the immediacies of chance, the wanderings of the line, the precariousness of the trace, and even the quivering of the fingers are a demanding and possessed passage to action, the raw material of a naked work. HAS the erosion of meaning, culture, and myths, as with the weak...