Every work is born numbered
The moment a piece enters the archive it receives its number — and keeps it forever. No gaps, no doubles, no “was this 41 or 43?”. Your catalogue raisonné writes itself, in order, from day one.
DOOR I / For the artist
It is where the work comes from. It is just not where the work should disappear live. You were never meant to be your own archivist. So ŒUVRE is — quietly, underneath everything, while you paint.
Somewhere between the studio, the storage unit, three hard drives and one shoebox, there is a life's work. It looks like this:
And then
Same works. Same you. Nothing asks you to remember anymore.
The moment a piece enters the archive it receives its number — and keeps it forever. No gaps, no doubles, no “was this 41 or 43?”. Your catalogue raisonné writes itself, in order, from day one.
Raw studio shots stay backstage; the edited image takes the wall. And when a work has only a phone photo, the archive gently flags it — this one still needs its portrait — instead of letting you find out years later.
Working in a series? Duplicate a work and the medium, materials and dimensions come along — with a fresh number and its own certificate. Five variations, five minutes, zero bookkeeping.
New works are drafts — invisible to everyone until you release them. The world sees what you decide is finished, when you decide it is. The chaos stays in the studio, where it belongs.
Behind every studio, the rooms no one wants to run. ŒUVRE keeps them — on your own premises, under your own name.
Your own address, out of your own house — invitations and the studio letter, sent to the right fifty people. No tool ever reads your list.
Sketches, scans, prices and names — kept in your own cloud, encrypted, and copied every night while you sleep. A lost laptop is no longer a lost decade.
Everyone who ever bought, asked or lingered, with their story. A sale becomes an invoice from the work's own file; at year's end your accountant receives numbers that add up. You were painting.
You keep the chaos.
It keeps the record.