Talking about your work in another language means thinking about it differently: there's a work of simplification, an effort to get straight to the point.

Can you look back at your career path and tell us how you became an author and illustrator?

Initially, I obtained a literary baccalaureate before entering applied arts schools, then joining the Arts décoratifs de Strasbourg from which I graduated in 2006. I trained in the "narrative illustration" section, but was also interested in graphic design and set design. Since 2008, I've been working as an author and illustrator: I was really seduced by the fact that I could be independent and initiate my own projects, without depending on a sponsor or client. While the core of my profession remains drawing and writing, over the years I've come to realize that there are other lives around books. These include exhibitions, stage adaptations, shows, drawing concerts and workshops with the public. As a jack-of-all-trades, my job is ultimately very varied, from illustration to mediation, which is really satisfying for me.

The European Children's Illustration Festival "Picture Me" took place from September 10 to 28 in Wellington, New Zealand. You were invited to take part and present your work. How did this project come about?

It's a project initiated by Gecko Press, the publisher who translates my books into English, published by Les Fourmis rouges in France. It chose to organize this festival by inviting authors from its European catalog, but it's also a project that was supported by the Goethe-Institut, the French Embassy in New Zealand, the Alliance française de Wellington, the Polish embassy andthe Institut français de Paris. It took almost a year of preparation before we could get there. The idea was to meet the public in different ways, with classes, art students, at the Beaux-Arts, but also the general public in bookshops, to exchange about our practices.

About the "Picture Me" Festival

Organized under the impetus of Gecko Press, New Zealand's leading distributor of European children's books, the Picture Me Festival is supported by the Goethe-Institut, the Polish Embassy, the Alliance française de Wellington, the French Embassy in New Zealand and the Institut français de Paris. The project is also supported by the Franco-German Cultural Fund, which supports cultural cooperation initiatives conducted in third countries by French and German diplomatic and cultural networks.

Find out more about the Franco-German Cultural Fund

On site, you were joined by illustrator Antje Damm (Germany) and illustrator Piotr Socha (Poland). What were the highlights of the festival and your experience in New Zealand? Do you have any anecdotes to share?

We lived together in Wellington with Antje and Piotr and had collective, but also individual exchanges with the audience. The presentations where we were together were the ones that stood out for me the most, because it was very interesting to compare our practices and it made the discussion more lively. It was also very special to live with other people in a shared flat and share the excitement of being at the end of the world together. As for the exchanges with the audience, I found it very unsettling to be so close to people who live so far away. I really had the impression of going to the end of the world, but in the end, the feedback I got on my books was quite similar to what I get in France. For example, for my books U maman, c'est comme une maison and La petite sœur est un diplodocus, which are fairly personal stories, I found myself having intimate discussions with people who were talking about their parenting, family life and the relationship they have with their child. It was touching, even though we'd only known each other for ten minutes. It felt like I was doing something intimate, and I realized that these words were, at heart, universal.

I really felt like I was going to the end of the world, but in the end, the feedback I got on my books was pretty similar to what I can get in France.

Did you feel the European dimension of this project even in New Zealand?

With Piotr and Antje, we had the feeling that we came from the same part of the world, especially as in children's literature, we take part in the same events in Europe, notably at fairs like Montreuil, Bologna or Stuttgart. Over there, it was as much an artistic adventure as a linguistic one. It was the first time I'd worked abroad in a language that wasn't my own, and it's very different all the same: talking about your work in another language means thinking about it differently, so there's a lot of simplifying involved, an effort to get straight to the point. It was also very interesting to be with other Europeans and discover a new country through our books, our craft.

The highlight for us was the realization of a 6-hand mural on the large window of the Te Whare Toi gallery in Wellington. We had to agree to create a large image as a trio, making compromises and concessions, each taking a back seat in favor of a collective production. For us, usually solitary artists, this collective experience is not so common. It's important for me to be able to step out of my comfort zone from time to time.

The festival was organized in partnership with Gecko Press, New Zealand's leading distributor of European children's books. How are your books published by Gecko Press, A Mother Is a House and My Baby Sister Is a Diplodocus, received on the other side of the world?

Usually, in France, I read my books to the public and, there, I found that in English, children read better than I did. At first, I started reading to them in English, but I soon gave them my books to read to the class or to the public. This allowed me to have more distance, to see how the book was perceived from a little further away and to see how the reader, child or adult, could interpret the reading. I was able to see that the audience wasn't laughing necessarily at the same time, that the rhythm of the reading wasn't the same. It's interesting to see that it can be several levels of reading on the same book depending on who's reading it.

Usually, in France, I read my books to the public and, there, I found that in English, children read better than I did.

Have you been able to develop new contacts and create new opportunities? Can we expect more translations of your books in the coming months?

I was able to meet my New Zealand publishers, with whom I'd been able to exchange a little before, but I didn't know them. It's important, humanly speaking, to be able to get closer in real life. Grande ! has just been released in France and is about to be translated into Italian, but, for the moment, there's nothing official about other translations. On the other hand, the little pop-ups published by Editions La Martinière continue their international life with Combel Editorial for Spain and all Spanish-speaking countries, Abrams Books for the USA and all English-speaking countries, and Franco Cosimo Panini in Italy. New translations of the collection and new titles will be published. At the same time, the pop-up collection is expanding with new titles aaround the seasons: the first volume Summer pop will come out in summer 2025 before Fall pop, Winter pop and Spring pop.

For the French-speaking market, you've continued your series of pop-up imagiers with Editions La Martinière and published Grande !, a new autobiographical album with Les Fourmis rouges. Are you already working on other projects?

I'm continuing my work as an author and illustrator of books for young people: it's the heart of my work. My books are the starting point for my work. But I aspire to broaden my practice, with collective projects like the mural we did in Wellington, performance projects with dancers or actors, musicians...

Working abroad has changed the way I think about my work. I found it very rich to work in another language. This new insight has made me want to go back and work in English-speaking countries, do residencies abroad again, why not imagiers in different languages. I'm also working on a new book, to be published by Les Fourmis rouges. It's called Pavel et Mousse, and it's a work of fiction.