1992 DNAP degree with an option in art, Ecole d'art, Toulon

1997 DNSEP,degree with an option in option art, Ecole d'art, Aix-en-Provence

Group exhibitions
2000 Arte-Marsiglia, French Cultural Institute, Turin

Fictionnary at Triangle France and 3015, Paris

Galerie J. Girard,Toulouse

Jour de fête, collaboration on Gilles Barbier's installation, Centre Georges Pompidou, Paris

1999 Mekimanipulki, performance with Yannick Lemesle (Lorgues, Gmem festival, Marseille)

Résidencies
2000 Astérides, Friche de la Belle-de-Mai, Marseille

Triangle France, Friche de la Belle de Mai, Marseille

2001 Ateliers d'artistes de la ville de Marseille

29 years old

Entropie, terraformage, usine à air.

"I always say: one does what one can... ".

He also says his ideas are very simple. "I try not to make things complicated, to keep everything at ground level ."
His feet firmly on the ground, Laurent Terras would never wish to give the impression that he's above the rest. The irony of his recent creations is that they're always leaning towards the stratosphere. Witness this rocket imprisoned by a ring of pink plushy fabric, this planet "a bomb in the ass", amidst shimmering stars, or this space station producing oxygen. Straight out of science fiction, these animated machines use rather sophisticated techniques. We're a far cry from the art student who steadfastly refused new technologies and produced machines activated by tiny handles.

 

. "I have a very basic relation to mechanics, somewhere between the African thingamajig and the 21st century invention", he explains.
Despite the technological leap, derision is always there, omnipresent. He attributes it to this long journey in the East undertaken in 1995, which gave him "the humility and conscience that many people have urgent needs, much different from ours. It's not to be angelic: Laurent Terras' only intention is to not stand around with his hands in his pockets. Activist art, if a name were needed.
At random, he points the finger at the system's alienation, with "Mekimanipulki ", his sound and image machine, or third-world exploitation with his intravenous -oil bin-derrick- entitled "Until the rain falls".
Without too much of a stir. A falsely anodyne little melody,. One does what one can.