Dans les 80, beaucoup de petites annonces immobilières offrant des appartements à louer dans l'Art Deco District de Miami Beach valorisant en caractères gras la présence de parquet en bois : "HARD WOOD FLOOR".
Il semblait donc que mise à part les termites, avoir ce parquet était le truc ultra chic !
J'ai donc peint ce qui rappelle ce que l'on ressent après avoir fait l'amour dans une chambre d'hôtel à Miami. Le plancher en bois qui se délite me conduisit à peindre la série des "Salvador Doily"
A noter que depuis, certains des immeubles que j'ai peint en vrai, devant, ont été rasés : Le Anchor Hotel (sur le plancher) est maintenant un parking pour le Loews Hotel.
Voici un texte ( anglais), rédigé par l'écrivain théâtre Jim Tommaney au sujet de ma peinture :
Pierre Marcel paints the inner mind, the emotions that haunt us and reward us, the passions and fears we cannot live with and certainly cannot live without. His talent is to express emotion through the architectural vagaries and the coastal ambience of South Beach, with the semblance of conventional postcard transmuted through the alchemy of art into a riveting mystery, making us think: Wait a minute, what is going on here? !
He captures the sense of emptiness, and expectation, that follow a romantic interlude on a holiday afternoon. Seagulls circle idly as winds bend curtains to their command. The walls have disappeared, as have protagonists, yet the room is heavy with excitement and energy. Why, for example, is that floor warped-did the earth shake, in Hemingway's famous phrase?
Are these building bending for a better look, architectural voyeurs looking for the curved arch of a naked back? Are they envious of fragility of humans? Or of our durability? Do they seek companionship among themselves, thinking yes, I will bond with that edifice?
And all in daylight, harsh, unforgiving. Not for Marcel the elongations of a Modigliani or the shadows of a deChirico. What is to be seen is to be seen clearly, and the buildings echo the reality of newly-acclaimed architecture, and the accompanying sand and shore of South Beach. But the reality is subtly changed, so that we are compelled to enter this magical world and re-orient ourselves. And seek to understand, and see what we had not understood or seen before.
So the daylight is deceptive, deliberately, an illusionist's trick to entice us to lower our guard and be seduced into the Looking Glass, where things are not as they seem, where the pedestrian becomes exotic and the exotic commonplace.
And so I see here the ephemeral emotion which follows a romantic interlude on a holiday afternoon, the faint shadowy hint of mortality that brushes against our cheeks. Others may see- what others may see. For that is one of Pierre Marcel's strength's, that he captures a truth and shows it to us, but allows us to decide for ourselves the nature and shape of that truth.