The opening was held on Monday 3 August, as a five-to-seven, at Café de la Grave. Fred is invited there every second year, and he makes no secret of it: this is the date that counts. The room had the air of a family gathering — his own were there, and the faithful with them.
Entry Island is hard to reach and yet visible from almost anywhere. That paradox holds the exhibition together: you look at it every day without going. It closes the horizon at Havre-Aubert, at Cap-aux-Meules, at La Grave; you end up not seeing it, from having it always in front of you.
Fred made it the subject of a whole year. 22 canvases, March to August, the same waterline taken up season after season — painted the way you return to a sentence you cannot finish. This is not a series of landscapes: it is one gaze held for twelve months.