Interview with Jérôme “Trëz” Oudot On Identity, Distortion of the Body and Digital vs Physical Creation

Transmission 407: Interview with Jérôme “Trëz” Oudot

Jérôme “Trëz” Oudot is a multidisciplinary artist whose work occupies the turbulent intersection of physical matter and digital space. For him, drawing has been a means of rendering inner visions into concrete form since childhood. Through formal artistic study, this drive matured into an awareness of art as a language capable of exposing both his internal geography and the world at large. By the time he began exhibiting professionally in 2009, this practice was no longer incidental; it had become a way of life.

To view a piece by Oudot is to witness a violent, beautiful collision between order and chaos. Utilizing a dark palette of acrylics, black chalk, and collage, he deconstructs the human form, tearing apart the organic and the geometric. Heavily influenced by anatomical dissection and biomechanical surrealism, he treats the canvas as a subconscious battleground; the result feels less like drawings and more like psychological autopsies. Through a continuous feedback loop of scanning physical drawings, manipulating them digitally, and repainting them on wood, his art captures a haunting anatomy of emotion, subtly exploring human fragility, isolation, and the complex layers hidden beneath the surface of the flesh. His hybrid characters, which fuse body tissue, architecture, and apparition, evoke both futuristic mythology and stark psychological landscapes.

Exhibiting internationally in galleries from Paris and Rome to Philadelphia, Mexico City, and Tokyo, Oudot builds what he calls “chaotic architectures.” Over the years, his work has gained recognition for its singular fusion of organic forms and dark, poetic atmosphere. Based in Paris, his practice reflects an ongoing exploration of what remains profoundly human in an increasingly technological world. Whether working in graphite, mixed media, or large-scale digital compositions, he approaches the body as a site of memory, mutation, and emotional tension.

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Your artwork combines various creative tools such as painting, sculpture, drawing, and photomontage. In your pieces, you dive into a chaotic “abyss” of torn paper, dark chalk, and visceral anatomy. Do you see your physical art as a necessary act of rebellion against clean perfection?

For me, the necessity lies in tapping into unsuspected inner ressources, parts of myself I am unaware of and this blend of techniques, the layering and stripping away, and the experimentation all converge toward that goal. It’s within this chaos that the unexpected emerges, revealing so much about me. It’s something that transcends my conscious self and it allows me to get to know myself better. I become whole through the act of creating. Admittedly, the result often moves away from anything perfect or smooth, particularly in my work combining painting and drawing, as well as in my approach to digital pieces. I love the vibrancy of the textures and materials, it gives the work a living, tangible quality. That said, I do have a drawing series titled “GREY” (graphite on paper) that is much smoother and clean than the rest. The subjects appear almost cut out against the white background of the paper. Let’s just say it represents another facet of my work.

He creates dark, visceral expressionist art that actively rebels against digital perfection.

Your pieces frequently feature bodies and faces undergoing severe deformation, erasure, and hybridity. When you are stripping away or slicing into a painted visage, do you feel like you are performing an autopsy on human suffering, or are you peeling back layers to find something inherently beautiful?

I love the idea of trying to restore a sense of nobility to the ugly and the grotesque within a human society that is rigidly standardized and calibrated in its definition of “beauty.” Through these distortions, erasures, and cutouts, my goal is to explore what lies behind the world of forms, beyond appearances, as I like to say. In my view, the world is more than what meets the eye. Our perception of reality is limited by the quality of our sensory receptors, including our eyes and by our brains’ capacity to translate that information. In reality, we see very little of the world. For me, the act of creation is an attempt to perceive more of it, to convey it in a different way, or at the very least, to evoke the sense that there is more to it than what we perceive. So, by stripping things back in this way, I delve into the portraits themselves, seeking to reveal the true essence of what it means to be human.

Your figures often look like they are simultaneously forming and collapsing. Many artists use fragmentation aesthetically; in your case it feels psychological. Your images are closer to states of mind. What does deformation allow you to express that realism cannot?

There is an aesthetic value in these fragmentations and distortions, I cannot deny that, but clearly, that is not their only significance. It ties back to what I was saying earlier. It’s a way of connecting with the psychological and emotional dimensions through different avenues, something distinct from mere realistic representation. It touches on something deeply rooted within us that bypasses our conscious mind. I try to reach that place in the viewer, that shared aspect of our humanity.

There is a fascinating paradox in your artwork: it’s visible a deep passion for natural biology and real anatomy, yet your figures often merge with geometry or others. Where does the “natural” world end and the “artificial” human begin in your mind?

Yes, I’m particularly fond of this collision between anatomy and geometric forms, it adds depth and an element of the unexpected, something striking that, I believe, makes a strong visual impact. I love natural biology, even though I take great liberties in interpreting it through my work and allowing it to bleed into something more artificial is, for me, a way to bring together seemingly contradictory elements into a unified whole that feels more coherent. Humans often tend to distance themselves from the world around them, nature in particular, and this is my way of breaking down that separation, which strikes me as illusory. Beyond the realm of forms, there is only energy, and at that level, there is no real distinction between the individual and everything else. So, I aim to blur the boundary between what is considered natural and artificial.

His work is heavily inspired by biology, anatomy, and artists who deconstruct the body.

In art, geometry usually implies order, logic, and mathematics, while organic implies fluidity and unpredictability. Your artwork is deeply tied to a personal quest. What do these two aspects that clash in your artwork  reveal about you?

It is certainly a desire to unite rather than to separate, as I mentioned earlier. To return to a state of greater unity, to see all aspects of myself and to find wholeness through creation… I am sometimes orderly and logical, at other times more fluid and unpredictable. I enjoy exploring these different facets through my work, it’s truly a journey of self-discovery. When my work is presented to the public, that journey continues through the viewer’s eyes and returns to me like a reflection. The deeply personal interpretation each viewer brings to my work, provided they are willing to share their feelings and the resonance the piece stirred within them, teaches me a great deal about myself. It is very revealing, the artwork becomes a true mirror.

Some artists use digital media to remove traces of imperfection. Your digital artwork often preserves violence and texture. Why is rough important to you?

It’s that perpetual search for the primordial vibration, revealing movement within what is static. For me, it’s a way of trying to draw out the living quality found in textures, material effects and so on. Digital art is often viewed as cold and dehumanized… My aim is to show that this is not necessarily the case and the interplay between something very raw and elements that are more refined or detailed is an effective way to demonstrate that in my opinion.

You move constantly between drawing, painting, collage, and digital manipulation. Your process involves a continuous loop: you scan drawings to modify them digitally, and you use digital sketches to inspire physical paintings. Have digital tools changed the way you prefer to draw or paint by hand, physically?

That’s indeed how I operate, my working method forms a virtuous circle. Each technique and tool fuels the others, they literally feed off one another and this process is equally nourishing for my mind and creativity. Digital tools undeniably contribute a great deal to the way I paint and draw by hand. In fact, my path has been rather unusual, although I have drawn since childhood, my first professional artistic creations, the ones I exhibited, were digital. My art studies actually specialized in 3D and CGI. Even if I learned traditional art techniques as a student, it was only years later that I began exhibiting paintings and drawings as a professional artist. Yet, I know far more artists who started with traditional techniques and perhaps later migrated to digital media than the opposite. I’m certain that this atypical background and my use of digital tools have brought a unique process of creation to my traditional work. I’m familiar with academic techniques, I taught them, but I’m also aware that my practice is deeply personal.

His figures are hybrid creatures, caught in a state of mutation where flesh melts into geometric structures and faces are erased to reveal the raw emotion underneath.

Your artwork can feel both ancient and futuristic at the same time,  and often contain silence rather than narrative.  Are you consciously trying to escape a specific era?

As with many artists, there is a quest for timelessness. Indeed, this might well emerge from the very union of the ancestral and the futuristic. In any case, it follows the same logic as my combining of organic and geometric forms, or the collision of raw elements with more defined ones… it’s that perpetual search for unification, for a return to unity. I view the world of forms as illusory and the world of time seems equally so to me. About the narrative aspect, I’m not entirely sure. I feel my creations tell many stories, some more than others, certainly, but I believe they can convey very different tales to those who view them. Right now, I have a desire to move toward works that resemble frescoes in a way, pieces capable of heightening the narrative quality of my work while remaining open to a wide range of interpretations. That is the current aspiration, at least, I don’t yet know what it will actually yield in practice.

You’ve mentioned that you recently moved into a new workspace surrounded by other artists, all very different. Dark, profound art is often associated with intimate and isolated settings. How does the physical space influence the emotional energy of your artwork?

Yes, it’s a new kind of experience for me, new routines, meeting people, exchanging ideas… While it’s motivating, it’s also quite disorienting, and I have to admit I haven’t fully acclimatized to this new setting yet. I’m a very solitary person, especially in my artistic work. For me, the creative process is deeply intimate. That said, it’s interesting to engage with this new experience, there are certainly valuable things to be gained from it. I don’t yet know exactly what will come of it, but it was necessary for me to seize this opportunity, so I am glad I did. Moving forward, I’ll be paying close attention to how this impacts my creative process, though it’s quite possible that, at some point, I’ll feel the need to return to a more solitary way of working.

Moving fluidly between drawing, painting, collage, and digital composition, he creates unsettling yet deeply human images that explore transformation, fragility, and the unstable nature of identity. 

Your pieces feel uncanny, dreamlike but never escapist. What emotional state are you trying to create for viewers?

That’s an interesting observation. I agree that there is an “uncanny dreamlike” atmosphere in my work, yet I feel the theme of escaping something is deeply embedded in what I produce. I increasingly feel that a desire for something else, a need to flee, perhaps from this society, seeks expression in my work. However, by “never escapist,” you surely mean that it remains grounded in reality, not completely disconnected from the world we live in. I quite agree with that, it isn’t an imaginary world, my work is very much about our society, about us as humans and about what we experience here. I suppose what gives the work its dreamlike quality is that desire to look beyond appearances and form, again. That said, I don’t aim to provoke any specific emotional state in the viewer. What interests me, in fact, is observing the multitude of different reactions that arise in them and, if possible, discussing those reactions to discover parts of myself that I embedded in the work without consciously realizing it during the creative process.

Photos and images courtesy of © Jérôme “Trëz” Oudot

Dominique Musorrafiti

Ciao! My name is Dominique. I’m Italian and I’m proud to be a mix. My father was an Italian chemical engineer and high school teacher, with Greek and Polish heritage. My mother is Haitian, she was high school language teacher, with Dominican, Spanish, French, Portuguese, African and Native American heritage. Being a mix makes me appreciate to want to understand different cultures and lifestyles. I grew up in Italy, lived few years in Haiti, travel around main European capitals, lived many years in China, in Spain and UK. Traveling makes me feel that we can learn something from every situation in every part of the world.