Lazare Lazarus

Lazare Lazarus, a whore and a gardener, lives in Marseille. He draws bodies that open up like windows onto patches of burning bushes, where the limestone heats up under the agave plants that stand like temples, where the cacti bleed in the sun and bang against the shore, where the pines, pressed into the hollows of fallen rocks, give off the scent of cum and resin.

Lazare imagines these emotive settings to capture the memory of bodies and tell the story of our desires, struggling to exist. He documents the scrublands and shores of Marseilles, which he explores and blends with erotic imagery drawn from the archives of “Mémoire des sexualités,” an association he has been working with for several years.

His herbariums, etchings, Indian ink drawings, screen prints on coton fabric, poetry books are as many shrines to gather, getting a joyful hard-on in harmony with the landscape.

In addition, every month at Mineshaft, a fetish hard leather club in Marseille, Lazare co-organizes mixed queer bdsm sexparties to forge links between different generations and communities of trans, fags and dykes.