Do you remember when your fascination with collecting first began?

Having grown up in a family of antique dealers and flea market traders, I have always had old objects around me. As a child, I was already collecting porcelain miniatures and herbaria. Anything was a good excuse to start a new collection. Then, around the age of 18, I began going to flea markets and building more serious collections of antique objects.

What first draws you to a particular piece?

Anything but its market value. What draws me in first is its poetry, the story it tells, the patina of time. What makes it truly one of a kind.

What makes a piece naturally find its place in the spaces where you live and work?

I never really know in advance where I’m going to place a new object, and I never truly have the space. But the attachment I feel to it always allows it to find its place among the others.

Paris seems deeply woven into everything you do. How does the city shape your perspective, your way of collecting and creating?

I moved to Paris at 19, and it was love at first sight, just like in the movies. It’s a city full of secrets that I never tire of. I love wandering through its flea markets at weekends, crossing the city by scooter during the week, and still discovering new antique dealers or meeting new artisans to create objects with.

Craftsmanship plays such an important role in your work. What does the artisan’s hand bring to a piece?

It gives it its uniqueness. There’s the time behind each gesture, the handmade quality, and the care given to every detail. Each object becomes singular, carrying the imprint of the hand that shaped it, something that machines have gradually erased.

How do memory and daily rituals find their way into the objects you create and keep close to you?

The history of objects inspires me to create everyday pieces infused with a sense of poetry. In the past, people took more time to bring beauty into simple daily gestures. I like trying to reconnect with that and bring it back to life today.

Is there a piece that has become particularly meaningful to you over time, and could you tell us its story?

My collection of old, anonymous painters’ palettes, which I’ve been hunting for over the past fifteen years. Each one tells, in its own way, the story of an unknown painter through its colours, its mixtures, and the traces of their gestures still visible on its surface.

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