Yann Lacroix’s paintings conjure up spaces that quietly fluster and soothe our perception, where structures surface and vanish; they are simultaneously recovered and erased, signaled and dislocated, suffused in transparency and blur. Yet we seem to witness every gesture and brush of his superimposed compositions. As he puts it, “my first emotions are attached to patterns of volcanic plateaus, mountains, forests, nature…the notion of suspense”. The interplay in his technique equally holds us suspended between architecture and vegetation. The passage from one to the other is refracted, the vestibule is open, their contingence becomes instantaneously palpable. He assembles an accumulation of visual memories he has experienced and channels them into landscapes that incarnate a hushed poetry, as if excavating an archaeology of a distant memory, where architectural, historical, artistic, and imaginary traces intertwine, existing within a temporality that remains intangible.