Incollect Magazine - Issue 6

Incollect Magazine 19 acques Jarrige has several childhood memories of his father, but the most indelible is the time when his father gave him a book about sculpture. “It was, to me, like a door to walk through,” he says in English heavily accented with his native French. “This gift he gave me was more than a book, it showed me the way to engage, to live, be alive, and propose something about a way of living through artwork.” Jarrige was 18 and the book was a dictionary of sculpture written by a curator at the Louvre. “At this time I didn't make sculptures, I only drew and painted but from that day forward I realized my mission in life was to be a sculptor.” Jarrige is a man of few words. He communicates mostly J Jacques Jarrige, Toro Desk, 1993. MDF, lacquer. Photo: Garret Linn No object he makes looks the same from any one angle, frequently they look quite different, which is a testament to the way he thinks as an artist — three-dimensionally, and in 360 degrees. “Jacques' work is important because it touches our shared humanity, and is far from the manufactured discourse of so much of our world today,” says Valerie Goodman, his friend, and dealer. “It talks about something universal, a quest that takes us away to a place more serene. The work is about him, of course, but it is just as much about the dialogue with the viewer through the made object.” “The work is about him, of course, but it is just as much about the dialogue with the viewer through the made object.” through his work, softly, and subtly about things that are important to him: spirituality, the divine, the natural environment, and a desire for a shared connection to people and community. He is a humanist, a dreamer, in short, an idealist. Jarrige’s collectible furniture and lighting are immediately pleasing to look at but rather difficult to describe. It is sinuous, organic, and at times serene, but always profoundly sculptural.