"Art for me is a door to something deeper, a way to create resonance and connection,"

– Izard shares.

Few artists navigate disciplines with the fluidity of Benoit Izard. With academic achievements spanning architecture, dance, and fine arts, his work defies categorization, offering immersive experiences that challenge perceptions of space and form. After earning his architecture degree from the School of Architecture of Lyon, in France Izard deepened his creative pursuits at the School for New Dance Development (SNDO) in Amsterdam, – is part of the Academy of Theatre and Dance (ATD) at the Amsterdam University of the Arts (AHK) – editor's note. studying dance and choreography and he’s bachelor in performing arts. This multidisciplinary foundation became the springboard for a rich artistic practice that bridges the physical and the emotional.

The following interview has been condensed and edited for clarity.

Can you tell us about your early inspirations? When did you first realize, you were drawn to creating?

I may not have labeled myself a creative back then, but it’s always been a part of me. As a kid, I’d spend hours building with Legos, making toys, [and] observing my father work with wood. Around the age of ten, I began constructing small houses and things out of paper and set up a large train model where I created entire worlds, with houses, and mountains. I believe I started painting around twelve. There was a gallery in my town I loved visiting, one day I bought some canvas, and the rest was history as they say.

A 19th-century restoration comes to mind, where the goal was to return the space to its original floor plan—a design that circulated and breathed in a remarkably modern way. It was an immersive process, restoring the ornate detailing—the wood floors, the moldings—every element that defined the era’s artistic expression. The original floor plan I uncovered revealed an incredible sense of circulation and openness, almost as if the space anticipated contemporary design. I loved working with the interconnected rooms, much like those in a palace, where each room opens into the next, creating a sense of endless expansion—like a fractal continuously unfolding.

When I look at my art projects, they are very different in shape, medium, size, and the context in which they take place. Yet I apply the same eye to each project. It’s all about love. It’s about creating a higher vibration for the people who encounter it, to create a new memory in the person’s body.

Once you identify yourself, you frame your freedom, and there’s no unknown. True creativity lies in the unknown. Like a skilled ballerina who, though repeating the same choreography, makes each performance unique. That’s what real artists do—they continually improvise and reimagine.

So, that was a significant influence.

James Turrell for light and space, Marina Abramovich for her work on presence, Christo, Spencer Tunick, and Jérôme Bel. Abramovich’s presence work inspires me, even if I don’t necessarily agree with all her choices now.

Abramovich’s work is about transcending identity to reach a pure presence. Her piece at MoMA, where she sat motionless every day for a month as visitors came to sit with her—that’s powerful. It’s about surrendering to the moment. My tape works explore similar themes, encouraging viewers to connect with something within themselves.

My silk work is a study of material. Growing up near Lyon, a city celebrated for its silk, I was inspired to purchase the last bolts of fabric from a closed factory. From there, I began experimenting—layering, cutting, and even burning the silk to create landscapes that shift and evolve with the light. The effect is sensual, reminiscent of a jellyfish. A collector once drew a comparison to Lucio Fontana’s work, which I found intriguing. It’s all about following the material and discovering the path it reveals.

It represents the act itself. For the performers, it’s transformative—they lose a sense of where they end, and the audience begins. The tape erases their identity, acting as a mirror for viewers. The audience can’t grasp the entire image, which creates fascination. This work evolved from an exercise I conducted with students at the National Circus School in France. Initially, they wrapped each other, erasing themselves, which became the starting point for a new series.

Take Perez Art Museum as an example. These spaces are as much about protecting and showcasing artwork as they are about serving as a gathering place—a kind of modern village where people meet. This works beautifully because people come together around stunning artworks, enriching their conversations and deepening their connections through what the artists have created. This interaction builds culture and fosters society.

On the other hand, if we look at Paris during Art Week, particularly Art Basel Paris, we see an interesting contrast. The Art Basel Fair, held in the stunning Grand Palais—a historical glass house—was tremendously successful. Meanwhile, other fairs were relatively quiet. It’s clear that people aren’t just seeking art; they’re seeking a complete experience. They want the “full package”: a beautiful venue, beautiful people, engaging interactions, and a sense of occasion.

It’s not merely about price—after all, what defines the value of an artwork? People are paying for an immersive situation. However, this trend raises questions: where are we heading? If the value of art is only evaluated within a context—such as being displayed in a big gallery, at a prestigious art fair, or tied to a big-name artist—then we’re trapped in a self-perpetuating system.

Regarding my work, I could say that my art creates an event—an event with oneself and others. You don’t need to think, analyze, or estimate its value. The work takes you in; it transforms your perception and your body. For example, when you experience the Love Installation, your body and perception change. This is true for all my work: when you’re placed in the middle of it, you live an experience—a moment of freedom, joy, and connection with yourself and others.

As an artist and creator, I also engage in business as an investor in real estate, cryptocurrency, and startups, while pursuing genuine spiritual work with respected spiritual masters. This combination has defined my transversal approach and my ability to read humanity holistically. We need to connect the dots. The world has become fragmented, dividing everything into separate boxes. Even the notion of inclusivity in politics often begets more labels and divisions. For instance, instead of simply being human, we are categorized endlessly: LGBTQ+, LGBTQIA++, and so on. This limits us rather than helping us.

I’m also developing a series of photographic portraits where I layer ink directly onto the photo paper. Traditional paint doesn’t work on this surface, but the ink allows me to infuse the image with new energy, creating a richer, multidimensional portrayal of the person. The goal is to go beyond the limitations of photography, adding an energetic layer that resonates with the subject on a deeper level.

Collaboration is becoming increasingly important to me as well. Working alone can be exhausting, whereas art thrives in connection and exchange. Whether it’s working with other artists, galleries, or commissioners, I’m drawn to projects where collaboration brings new perspectives and vitality to the work. For example, I still enjoy creating site-specific installations, like The LOVE I did for the 1 Hotel & Homes South Beach, Miami, Florida during Art Basel Miami Beach 2015 and would love to take on more large-scale projects.

Art is as much the final object as the act of doing it. Enlarge the definition, whatever you do : make it an act of art; is it a dinner, sex or a painting, let it run in your body and in all those who experience it. The art industry is an aftermath, we want it to succeed and we all want to have a name ; but let art take us to this this child painting just for the pleasure of it, the world might be better.