Paz de la Huerta (b.1984 NYC) presents her first solo exhibition El Vallé de Lagrimas with Ruttkowski;68 in Paris, curated by Kenny Schachter.

Paz = peace. De la Huerta = of the orchard. ‘Ortus Conclusus,’ ‘an orchard, enclosed,’ is one of the names of the Virgin Mary. Peace of the secret or sacred enclosure. One looks for it, but no one will be spared. The wind of Karma crashes the door. The walls crumble. One is part of an ever-expanding web and inevitably drowns or is swept far away, up in the air. Goya made innumerable drawings and prints of people laughing or flying. Centuries and continents away, Sister Morgan stitched herself a white dress, covered long scrolls with figures of angels and, standing in front of them, played the trumpet, chased the devil away, and married Jesus.

Drugs are said to open the doors of perception but can also shut them down when the pain is constant, without remedy in one’s reasoning. Painting is a remedy too. I saw the photograph of a scroll painted by Paz. The scroll was on the floor, and all around it were photographs of children. All the children were smiling. Paz is a woman, an actress, a filmmaker, and a painter. Paz once was a girl. Paz once was a child. That child smiled and was happy. To recover that child, to recover that smile—it is a reasonable wish. But one can only dream of one’s wishes. And the dreaming is the best part, it is so much better than fulfilling the dream. And painting the dream is even better than dreaming it. So please, everyone, let it all fall down, silently. Paz painting, Paz dreaming, Paz returning to Paz. - Francesco Clemente

In the bustling, ever-awake streets of New York City, where the lights never dim and the art scene thrives, a unique figure emerged from the shadows of her tumultuous past to become a beacon of resilience and artistic brilliance. Paz de la Huerta, known to many as an actress and a New York It girl with an unmistakable style, has a story that transcends the glitz and glamour of the city that never sleeps.

From a young age, Paz found solace in painting. Her canvases, laden with surrealism and religious themes, became the silent witnesses to her inner turmoil and unspoken truths. Influenced by the vibrant works of Basquiat, who once walked the same halls of Saint Ann’s in Brooklyn Heights, and guided by the profound wisdom of Francesco Clemente, whom she lovingly calls "a friend and teacher," Paz's art blossomed into a powerful testament to her journey.

Paz's life was far from a fairy tale. Beneath the surface of her public persona lay the scars of trauma and abuse. Speaking out against her parents and the infamous Harvey Weinstein, she courageously exposed the darkness that had overshadowed her early years. It was through painting, encouraged by her therapist Michael Rebel, that Paz began to heal. "Art could heal me," Michael had said, and with each stroke of her brush, Paz transformed her pain into profound, visual narratives.

Her paintings, soaked in surreal and religious imagery, reflected a soul in search of redemption and understanding. Paz’s unique style caught the eyes of avant-garde designers, and she became a fixture in the New York art scene, always hanging out with the creative rebels of the city. Paz’s journey was not just about surviving; it was about thriving and finding her true self amidst the chaos. "Isolation is the gift," she quoted Bukowski, echoing her own experiences of being intentionally isolated by her family. Within this solitude, she found strength in her spirituality, delving deeper into her faith and practices like the Iboga medicine of South America, which further enriched her artistic and personal growth. Despite the adversities, Paz de la Huerta emerged as a phoenix, her wings adorned with the colors of her past and the light of her future. Her story is one of truth prevailing over darkness. As her therapist once said, "It’s a universal law that the truth prevails," and Paz embodies this law, using her art to shine a light on her journey and inspire others to find their own path to healing.

El Valle De Lagrimas is on view at Ruttkowski;68 until the end of July.

8 RUE CHARLOT PARIS

ruttkowski68.com

ARTWORK PHOTOGRAPHER: THIBAULT JORGE

PORTRAIT PHOTOGRAPHER: ERIC GUILLEMAIN