THE ARTIST’S THINKING AND TECHNIQUE

Driven by a sense of absolute determination, Bucaille takes on all the dimensions the world has to offer, developing every aspect of the cosmic program as a wise schoolboy would a paper cube. It’s up to the viewer to scrutinize this art forged of exploding underground passages, pulverized caves, meadows covered with broken flowers under skies strewn with lightning, all carried along in a whirlwind to the very edge of paroxysm.

Bucaille is a seer with eyes of tender cyanite, for whom the maelstrom holds no secrets. His paintings require the viewer to assimilate them on the spot, if they are not to strive throughout a considerable slice of life towards the “knowledge” that books, which apparently explain everything, would give them. But as this last phenomenon is reminiscent of the slow elaboration of a repentance that might recall the moment of a forgotten flash, we have to agree that it would be a pity for the studious viewer, who would lose all hope of experiencing what Bucaille so generously gives us to see. Few painters have, in fact, surrendered themselves as he has; so the Bucaille mystery must be sought, without wandering, in nature, at once so simple and so complex. But many have lost their keychains, and it seems that the further we go, the more golden the keys become. This is the Gordian knot that only men of goodwill, aided by clairvoyance, can untie.

Bucaille inspects our surroundings with an eagle eye, and the transmutation he imposes on this spectacle brings it to the profound equilibrium of a kind of heavy water. With an art that borders on the whirlpools of his sensibility, he assumes, without detour. It’s like a philosophy, like a snake biting its own tail; it’s the renewal of a centripetal force in perpetual acceleration.

Théodore KOENIG
1960