SOPHIE ULLRICH
PRÊTE - MOI TON GRAIN DE SEL
OCTOBER 10 - NOVEMBER 8, 2025
OPENING RECEPTION:
OCTOBER 10, 6 - 9 PM
72 RUE DES ARCHIVES
75003 PARIS
FRANCE
There is something delightfully cheeky about Sophie Ullrich's title Prête-moi ton grain de sel (literally Lend me your grain of salt), but also something very linguistic. Indeed, while the French expression “adds its grain of salt,” the German expression adds a grain of mustard. In English, we add two cents. The artist, who is of Swiss origin and often uses all three languages, plays with meanings and interpretations with her characteristic audacity and imagination. Prête-moi ton grain de sel, if we follow the logic, would therefore mean: lend me that little something in you that constantly gives its opinion without being asked and without minding its own business[1]. In France, we also take things with a grain of salt, meaning we don't give them too much importance, and then we also have that very particular “grain of madness.” The program promises to be invigorating and colorful.
In this new series of works dominated by pastel tones, mainly almond green and pale pink, Sophie Ullrich plays with space-time and the limits of possibility. In 13 paintings, she recounts a long journey through France, somewhere between melancholy and a sought-after solitude, with details and images from postcards. Within this mix, several traveling companions come together, protagonists of a story that leaves traces of memories as ironic as they are sensitive. Gustave Doré's famous Puss in Boots, illustrating Charles Perrault's tales (L'orage se prépare, 2025), finds himself alongside other cats who are a little more drunk and more contemporary (like in Appeler des fantômes, 2025), while a medieval lady, smoking her cigarette in a carefree and almost sulky manner (Cycle, 2025) rubs shoulders with calves that look like twins (Par monts et par vaux, 2025). This beautiful blend of subtle references and works whose titles always play with words—read them carefully!—is a delightful and unexpected assembly, but not that surprising. Indeed, although all the subjects are different, everything seems connected and logical: that's the magic of the artist's brush, which makes us believe in things that we know are clearly improbable. Her associations, perfectly absurd and borisviantesques[2], always end up landing on their feet thanks to the artist's precise lines and her particularly subtle and skillful talent for imitating textures and materials. From afar, it can sometimes be misleading, as we might think we are looking at a photograph in detail, but this is not the case, and Sophie Ullrich knows how to handle these illusions with a masterful hand.
Also, around these objects, each more incredible than the last, yet familiar from our everyday lives, are a few discreet but busy ghosts: white or black lines draw busts, waves, and sometimes just arms and hands, whose bodies are transparent, allowing the pictorial landscape to be seen through them. They are undoubtedly there to support these astonishing objects, without ever stealing the show. One gets the feeling that Sophie Ullrich is poking a little fun at so-called great painting, where such seemingly worthless objects would never have been allowed to appear for a single moment. Laughing at it, yes, but always with finesse and intelligence, as she proves by quoting Doré, as mentioned earlier: this artist, known as a talented draftsman and engraver, did not see his painting recognized for its true value in a century that ranked artistic practices. By restoring Puss in Boots to his rightful place, she herself kicks the buttocks[3] of a few traditions that encourage debate and adds her own two cents, serenely, beautifully, joyfully. Appropriately.
- Laure Saffroy-Lepesqueur
Sophie Ullrich (*1990, CH) lives and works in Düsseldorf, Germany. In 2010, she studied art history at the University of Cologne. In 2011, she began studying fine arts at the Kunstakademie Düsseldorf and graduated in 2018 from Eberhard Havekost's class.
[1] In French, the expression is translated by taking care of your own onions.
[2] This adjective refers here to the particularly whimsical universe of French author Boris Vian.
[3] « Botter les fesses » is a French, slightly vulgar expression, used to threaten or motivate someone forcefully.
