A carver/engraver/gatherer – as he describes himself –, as well as a tireless roamer, sculptor, gleaner, collector – and so on and so forth –, Stéfan Tulépo patiently makes his way along the path of a constructive poetics of material and form, brimming with little attentions and imbued with a (re)creative sense of humour. Navigating between the Villa Rohannec’h – a former ship-owner’s house built in the early 20th century and gradually turned into a creative centre for artistic and cultural exchanges – and the Valais cabins – humble holiday houses built from the 1950s onwards, overlooking the only beach in Saint-Brieuc: this is how Stéfan Tulépo occupied most of his time and space, and was able to work at […]
A carver/engraver/gatherer – as he describes himself –, as well as a tireless roamer, sculptor, gleaner, collector – and so on and so forth –, Stéfan Tulépo patiently makes his way along the path of a constructive poetics of material and form, brimming with little attentions and imbued with a (re)creative sense of humour. Navigating between the Villa Rohannec’h – a former ship-owner’s house built in the early 20th century and gradually turned into a creative centre for artistic and cultural exchanges – and the Valais cabins – humble holiday houses built from the 1950s onwards, overlooking the only beach in Saint-Brieuc: this is how Stéfan Tulépo occupied most of his time and space, and was able to work at leisure – with whatever he had at hand –, engaged in a permanent toing and froing between the inside and the outside, architecture and the landscape, and culture and nature.
