Every Day is Picture day - Ze remix

PREFACE BY PHIL VANDUYNEN | 2004 "Before being called Lucas Racasse, Lucas was called de Grandsaigne. This would, whether he liked it or not, guide his career and, before that, his way of thinking, his constant rebellion, his voracity, and his need to innovate. I can talk about it because I myself was violently diverted from my initial lures by that same damned Gil de Grandsaigne. But since this is a pre-mortem retrospective exhibition, let's take a moment to revisit our friend's eventful career (of the hat). After two brief years at La Cambre, interspersed with internships in the trendy agencies of the moment, he threw himself into atypical graphic design at Design Studio, where he has illustrated, among other things, the posters for Théâtre 140 up to the present day. A fervent advocate of alternative graphic design, Lucas will carry his (mad) dog personality around and drop his acidic droppings here and there in the world of publishing, graphic design, and advertising as an illustrator-graphic designer and artistic director. In 1991, he joined forces with ZOO Communication and founded - with others - in 1992 the King & Kong studio, where the Théâtre de la Balsamine, the G7, the Fnac, Cramed disc, the Fool Moon and the Bulex, to name but a few, would all parade pell-mell. In 1999, he regained his dear individual freedom and returned to his first love - illustration -, working for Marianne, L'événement du jeudi, Rock&Folk, Libération, VSD, exhibiting in Brussels and Paris. At the same time, he launched into video. "I'm ignoring an incalculable number of achievements here" (which you will have the pleasure of discovering). What's surprising about Lucas is that in fifteen years of experience and experiments of all kinds, he has never let go of his bone. A freshly ripped bone, whose substantial marrow he delights in gnawing at to the point of nausea. His 'criminal' exhibitions are testimony to this. And if, for Lucas, the exception has always confirmed the absence of a rule, I would like to describe the backbone of his work as a technological form of the expression of dismay. A dismay that gives the strength to seek out the reason: a world dehumanized by the media's fabric, smoothed down to the norm. His exhibition should be seen as a stroboscopic flash, unencumbered by value judgments, where good is the friend of evil and good taste the enemy of good. The science of electroshock in Technicolor. A world of images to be consumed on the spot, well-cooked or rare, but always perfect. Sensitive eyes should refrain."