About Sarr

I was born and raised in Paris, France. My first artistic experiments weren’t in studios or galleries but sprayed across concrete walls. Was it really street art? Hard to say—but I figured if you had to run from the cops, it probably counted.

Then life happened. I spent thirty years caught in the corporate world—a different kind of box, a different kind of grid. But art kept tugging at me. I tried photography, painting, epoxy. I touched a little bit of everything before finally finding my thing: shadow boxes and miniatures.

Now, my work builds tiny worlds inside frames. Little workers hang from thin wires. Candy bears line up in rows. Words cut, words bleed. Holes appear that might be bullet wounds, eyes, or nothing at all.

Some nights I wake up thinking I’m trapped in my own frames. Some mornings I am.

For me, it’s never about explanation. It’s about letting the gap between things speak—between objects, ideas, and the fragile little figures moving through them.

I’ve lived in New York City for the past twenty years, still arranging these strange in-betweens into boxes that hold more questions than answers.