Alan Ézur and his "Goddess of the Peaks"

The snow factory at the Crest-Voland Cohennoz resort blends into the landscape. An anonymous, functional structure. A place one forgets. But here, something catches the eye.

A woman's face emerges from an icy mist. Sculpted by light, chiseled by cold. Silent, powerful. Her gaze pierces the horizon, beyond the visible. Her contours fade in a vaporous breath, a fragile and majestic apparition.

Goddess of the peaks, sentinel of the altitude, she watches over. At her feet, immensity. The mountain, dazzling, indomitable. Perhaps already threatened.

Pure lines, sharp contours, fleeting shadows. It seems frozen in its splendor. Intact. And yet, this wall is not insignificant: it belongs to this artificial heart that prolongs winter when nature hesitates. A subtle irony. An assumed paradox.

Alan Ezur plays with this tension. He doesn't paint the erasure of the landscape. He captures the moment before, the moment when everything still holds. A dazzling, controlled vision. Eternal snow? Or a mirage ready to dissipate?

His work oscillates between hyperrealism and abstraction. The movement of graffiti surfaces beneath the precision of the line. The artist, fueled by the adrenaline rush of the wastelands, retains that raw intensity, that spontaneous rhythm inherited from his early lettering. He blends photographic realism and urban graphics, merging instinct and mastery, instantaneity and permanence.

His white lines cross the fresco, creating the effect of a stained-glass window. Our gaze is filtered, as if through a glass prism. A shattered light fragments it, giving the scene the strangeness of a vision between two worlds, where fascination and astonishment intermingle. The mountain has never seemed so majestic. Nor so vulnerable.

Alan Ezur's work doesn't provide an answer. It challenges. It places the viewer on the edge, between admiration and vertigo. Not in the face of what might disappear, but in the face of our irrepressible desire to stand up to time.

"React'Now," whispers the wall...

Text credits: ©Be on the Crest.

Show less