Art Under the Acacias – Vanessa Morisset

A VISIT
TO TERRE BLANQUE
WITH ANNLOR CODINA

43°50′35″ N 1°23′53″ E · ALT. 178 M

In response to my call for walks, Annlor sends me a message that gives me a glimpse of a singularly radical way of being an artist in a rural setting, far from the models I’m used to. What she writes excites me so much that I reproduce it here:

« It is with joy that I invite you to share a walk from my large cabin-studio under the acacias, to the nearby forest, a place of experimentation, learning, text elaboration, and gathering of materials for transformation. I live in an artistic collective in the Toulouse scrubland. »

The place is located in Saint-Lys, in Haute-Garonne, in a hamlet set back from the road, hidden by trees, whose name is now merging with that of the collective, Terre Blanque¹. Previously, the land and buildings were dedicated to an educational farm, then circuses were hosted in residence, followed by artists, until it became a creative center established for the long term, Annlor explains, guiding me between the cabins. I find them magnificent: all different, they are already works of art in themselves. One is built from the transport container of a section of an Ariane rocket. Annlor’s has two floors, where her life and her artistic experiments intertwine.

All around, there are plants, on the ground and climbing, flowering, visited by bees. Inside too. She makes syrups from them and even her own champagne (called « fairy champagne »), made with linden and elderflower, following a wild-cooking recipe that uses spontaneous fermentation, as well as liqueurs that make up a liquid color chart.

Still on the subject of plants, Annlor mentions work she has been doing for several years on plant dyes, or more precisely on dye plants, with the Institut Supérieur des Impressions Naturelles Appliquées (ISINA), an organization that trains people in the use of natural colors².

Listening to her, I understand that her work is intrinsically linked to the plant world: it is fully part of her practice, just as it is part of her life choices. Yet the further our discussion goes, the more I sense that, for her, art does not simply merge entirely with life. Art is not only a way of life, even in an ecological and anti-capitalist sense. It carries other stakes as well. Art gives a voice to be heard. At one point, for instance, Annlor comes to recount her first artistic attempts, at the Tarbes School of Fine Arts, where she enrolled after doing odd jobs and living in a van. She recalls a video she made that gave voice to marginalized people living on the street. From then until today, moving between marginality and art, and back again, is so much a part of her story that she manages to hold art both on the side of the fragility of experimentation and the determination of taking a stand.

When I ask her whether the collective around her, or others she takes part in — for example the Rural Art System organized by Tetalab³ and Terre Blanque, which has brought together artists and hackers every summer for several years — are the first recipients of her works, she hesitates, because it’s obvious, and at the same time, as a reflection of the material conditions under which they are made, her works must precisely be visible beyond her own circle.

From this perspective, together with a group of artists from the region, she works in a twinning partnership with researchers and artists from Gaza.

This is a project called LINE, which she devised with Palestinian artist Nawras Shalhoub to connect six artists from the Gaza Strip with six artists from the Toulouse region, « with the aim of hacking borders and blockades, » she explains to me. As part of this project, she first worked with Majdal Nateel, an artist who managed to flee Gaza for Sweden, then with Maisara Mukhaimar, a researcher in plant biology and genetics at the Palestinian National Agricultural Research Center in Gaza. He was recently welcomed to France and now works as a biological sciences researcher at the University of Nantes. Their joint project consisted of studying and revealing how, in Gaza, plants translate — notably through changes in color — the composition of soils poisoned by bombings, chemical attacks, and the Israeli government’s regular herbicide spraying. Some plants develop astonishing abilities to produce specific, even unprecedented colors, such as fluorescent hues; the aim, rather than viewing them negatively as toxic, is to celebrate them and pay tribute to their power of « plant resilience. » One avenue for a sensitive translation of the scientific study was to create a color chart of Gaza’s dye plants, to compare it with the one produced by equivalent plants in France. Also in connection with Gaza, together with other artists, Annlor took part in a sale of works whose proceeds — more than €8,000 — were sent to help artists and the local population⁴. For her, art is a genuine lever for action and a mouthpiece for those who have no access to public speech. This is why the question of how her works circulate arises — not in terms of success and career, but in ethical terms. Talking with her is, for me, a great lesson in determination, radicalism, and coherence.

As we keep talking, we step out of her cabin to walk around the grounds. Among the trees and flowers, we cross a large living room set up under a marquee, further on a games room with a ping-pong table, a screening room, a library, a communal kitchen… Looking at all the plant species growing joyfully among the structures, it occurs to me that what is happening here is not so far from Lois Weinberger’s Portable Garden (1994), installed on the forecourt of Les Abattoirs in Toulouse for the exhibition « Artists and Farmers, » held around the time of our meeting: bags filled with soil and plant seeds asking only to grow, and then to spread their pollen everywhere⁵. Annlor and the Terre Blanque collective’s work is quieter, no less effective.

We extend our walk into the forest surrounding the cabins, but time is running out and I have to get to Muret to catch the train back to Toulouse. Annlor walks me back, and we keep talking for another ten minutes on the station platform until the regional train arrives.


  1. For a history of the place and more about the resident artists, see the collective’s website.
  2. An institute that organizes trainings and workshops to « encourage and develop the use of natural color in industrial practices. »
  3. Tetalab is a collective born in Toulouse in 2009, representing hacker culture in the sense of sharing and passing on knowledge.
  4. The Art Wake Up sale was held on May 4, 2024, in Toulouse, thanks to donations from artists.
  5. Initiated by Julie Crenn, on a subject close to her heart and one she knows well, with artists she accompanies through her perspective, her reflections, and her commitment, the exhibition ran from March 1 to August 25, 2024.

Vanessa Morisset - L'art sous les acacias Texte critiqueVanessa Morisset - L'art sous les acacias Texte critique

Text from the book by Vanessa Morisset, published in January 2026: Mémoires d’une presque touriste en Occitanie
An edition born from her encounters with artists, artworks, and landscapes during her residency as an art critic at Caza d’Oro

Vanessa Morisset Annlor Codina 1