My catalog.

Breakfast with the family. (50x70)

8/10 editions available.

250€

FOOD. #1 (30X40)

9/10 editions available.

150€

OCCUPY. #8 (30x40)

10/10 editions available.

150€

Mater Suspiriorum. (30x40)

10/10 editions available.

150€

TRAINING BEFORE ART #2 (50x70)

10/10 editions available.

300€

Political domination. #2 (50x70)

9/10 editions available.

250€

Men are trash. #2 (30X30)

9/10 editions available.

150€

Men are trash. #1 (50x70)

10/10 editions available.

250€

Mater Tenebrarum. (30x40)

9/10 editions available.

150€

L'Agneau Sacrificiel. (50x70)

10/10 editions available.

250€

I am happy because every one... (30x40)

1/1 limited edition with frame.

200€

Party. (50x70)

9/10 editions available.

250€

The artist. #1 (30X40)

9/10 editions available.

150€

FOOD. #2 (30X40)

10/10 editions available.

150€

Mater Lacrimarum. (30x40)

9/10 editions available.

150€

TRAINING BEFORE ART #3 (50x70)

10/10 editions available.

300€

If you want to order one of my works, send me a message using my professional e-mail adress.

If you want one of my pictures in another size, you can ask me for a copy. As a "special format", it will not be numbered.

Please, don't m*st*rb !

"Please don't m*st*rb !" is one of my first works as a pictural artist. It was actually my last work before the Covid 19 lockdown and the writting of my novel L'Agneau Sacrificiel. This work has already been published before, when I thought it could be a cool way to question morality in the artistic representations of the sexual aesthetic of death.


Actually, two years later, I don't need this pretext anymore. This is just my art. That's the aesthetic I like. And now that I know that I don't have to justify about my art and my creativity, I am ready to publish it without context. 


Of course, the "Please don't m*st*rb !" series is for sale.


One original polaroid : 500€

One printed copy of one polaroid (40x40) : 200€

Please don't m*st*rb ! full polaroid work : 5000€ 


To buy one of these works, just send a message to contact@victorienbiet.com or to one of my social accounts.

I am happy because every one loves me.

"I am happy because every one loves me" was my first performance. First thought as a parody of Louis Wain's art, as a way to express my despair through this humorous ironical cynism of mine, I widened my work in 2022 during Pride Art's annual exhibition in Oslo where I found a way to demonstrate a minimalist vision of the healing process in mental health.The original picture represents the delusions of the patient, traped in an imaginary world that only him can understand and his efforts to hide his sickness to the world. You can see the pain in the muscles of his face while his brain seems to boil. And this self-portrait, as pathetical and comical as it is, is also an unintentional representation of suffering. It highlights the fact that society is not sensibilized enough about mental health issues and that people having mental issues are expected to behave as if they were fine. Just look at this cute kitty cat. Doesn't he look happy ? He says it himself : he's happy, because everyone loves him ! And while he tries to convince the world that he's really fine, he also tries to convince himself that he is happy. Because he doesn't want to disturb you. He doesn't want to bother you. He doesn't want to make you waste your time. He only wants to fit in and to be a good little kitty cat.


But why a cat ? While the cat is a nottorious symbol of cuteness, he's also associated with weariness, laziness, and solitude. The cat itself, as a living being, in his behaving, looks like a natural carricature of depression. The Freudian "Parapraxis" and the exploration of the unconscious of Wain could lead to an explanation of the use of the cat's figure as coded messages to express the feelings of despair while creating a "noble" and "innocent" piece of art. In Wain's work, there's also the deconstruction of this innocent figure and the transition to something darker, creepier, but also "under acids". It's an interesting simbolic gesture toward society. It could be an unconscious deffensive movement of the artist's sensibility reacting to the degradation of his mental health, sending distress messages to the brain, to the body, and to society, asking them to stop hiding what is about to erupt for it needs to regain his freedom to create, staightjacketed by the moral codes of interpersonal relationships that forces the patient to act as if all was fine, at the risk of degrading his own health.

Phase 2

This was what I called "phase 1" of my performance. At that time, this was not a performance at all. It was not even thought as a part of a wider artistic and philosophical work. It was only the representation of my own distress and a coded message to the people I knew, just to tell them that I was not ok. Then, my psychiatrist helped me to see things differently. Thanks to the therapy, I had the opportunity to create something new, a spark of hope, by using this work.

"Phase 2" was the begining of the performance.


Just imagine the cat, sitting in his psychiatrist's chair. Imagine him taking conscience of himself, of his discomfort, realising that healing was a process which imposes the necessity of his will to feel fine again. Realising that the cracked fortress he had built around himself was a mystification, a delusion. That this self portrait, exhibited to the public in a gallery was not a mask of happiness but the pathetic concretization of his sickness. A mess. This is the begining of the healing process. So what is the reaction of the patient, as a cat ? He simply knock over the picture, letting it fall on the floor, as all normal cats do with random objects. It's the contained aspect of the healing process : the regain of trust, pride and self esteem by revolting "timidly" against the rules that turned him, his world, his art, into a mess. The yellow sign on the right is a personnal addition to this metaphor : even though I've droped the frame on the floor, I still worry about the others, about their safety, about their well being. While I begin to take care of myself, I don't forget my values, and I don't sink into selfishness. I don't want people to slip on my picture and getting hurt. I resist to external pressures but I don't change : I stay who I am.


The interesting thing about this second phase was that it transformed itself into a participatory performance. As the picture was laying on the floor, I've observed people hanging it on the wall again. They were not even looking at the yellow sign that was a gesture of kindness toward them. They were only wondering "why is this picture on the floor ?", saying that "it's not supposed to be there". So, every time the picture returned on the wall, the cat came back and knocked it down. Over and over again. Ten times, perhaps twenty. Until they stopped. Until they understood. At last, after fighting against rules and the interpersonal relationships requirements, I was free. Free from society's efforts to transform me, to make me act as if all was fine. And, at last I could impose to their eyes the reality of my condition. Freed from having to hide what was inside of me, I could begin the real process of my healing.

Phase 3

This is where "phase 3" begins. This is not the outcome of the healing process but the first concrete step of self-healing that leads to the destruction of the constructed imagery that society needs to see. First, now that people don't need me to show them a faked picture of myself, I could just remove it. And that's what I've done. I removed it under everybody's eyes. Disguised as a cat, randomly stealing a work of art from a gallery. And I brought it into Jakob's Kirke where Wunderkammer's Gala was happening. I went on stage with the picture and I droped it on the floor once and for all in a deafening "boom". Everyone became silent. With disinterest, I've broken this imagery in front of their eyes, walking to the mic. Now that I had deffied the rules, everyone was listening to me, waiting me to explain. So I explained.


By reprising "Memory" from the musical "Cats", I was testifying the hurt I felt publicly, rejected but also misunderstood by the tribe. I was expressing my will to be loved again for who I was. Crying for society's knighting toward me. But it was not necessarely a call of despair like before. Neither a call for pity. Just the eruption of all that sadness that was inside of me. "I just let go". "I have something to say to you. Like it or not. But you will have to listen." I sang. And they understood. So they cheered me on. They welcomed me back into the tribe, sick or not, free to be myself as they had learned to understand my condition. And this is exactly what I wanted to accomplish with this performance. The degradation of the facade imagery of sanity, then its destruction. With this work, I wanted to show that the social censorship of mental hilness leads to the aggravation of the patient's condition and that a society that is able to understand, to listen and to comfort people who are "sick" is a safer and healthier space to grow up, to go onward, to feel good. For me, for you and for everyone.