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Marie Krüger was born on April 20, 1975, in Biarritz.

 

From an early age, she was immersed in opera and theatre through her parents, one a stage director and set designer, the other a costume designer. Music also became part of her very being as she learned to play the cello, while her brother Nicolas was already an accomplished pianist.

Still a child, Marie naturally took on the role of assistant director and specialized in lighting design. Being able to read music, she handled lighting cues for live performances staged at family festivals and open-air venues.

 

At the same time, she developed a passion for cinema, devouring everything shown in darkened theaters. Within a few years, her film culture had grown considerably.

 

At just sixteen, she was legally emancipated by a state judge so she could work as an assistant film editor in 16mm and 35mm at Weymel Montage for Telcipro. She went on to write short films inspired by photographs by Doisneau. Then came a feature film directed by Philippe Haïm : Barracuda, starring Jean Rochefort and Guillaume Canet.

 

Burning the candle at both ends eventually took its toll. Marie became seriously ill. The diagnosis came: bipolar disorder type II.

 

A period of reflection followed, along with a return to her studies. She knew she was meant for something very specific, listening and helping others. She wanted to become a psychoanalyst.

First came her own psychoanalysis with a training analyst, then theoretical coursework, and finally the writing of a thesis based on a patient analysis. Through intense dedication — tripling the pace of her therapy sessions — she completed what is usually a long process in just two years.

 

At twenty-four, Marie Krüger opened her psychoanalytic practice behind the town hall of Paris’s 3rd arrondissement, on rue Cafarelli. Word of mouth allowed the practice to flourish. But psychoanalysis does not cure bipolar disorder, and Marie relapsed. She was hospitalized.

A second diagnosis followed : borderline personality disorder.

 

She underwent electroconvulsive therapy and was prescribed medication, too much medication. Marie died a little, a lot, passionately, and yet survived and came back to life.

One day, she picked up a paintbrush — and never stopped painting. Through daily struggle and fierce determination, she gradually stabilized.

 

All the artistic expressions she had experienced, actively or as a spectator, entered into symbiosis. Painting became a bursting bouquet.

 

Marie always paints to music, often accompanied by Debussy’s Pelléas et Mélisande, returning like a tender memory, but also by the rock of Queen, U2, and, suddenly, the escape of Billie Eilish. As for the material, mostly oil paint, worked primarily with palette knives, it might evoke the influence of Eugène Leroy.

 

In 2024, she published, together with her brother Nicolas Krüger (conductor, pianist, and poet) a book intertwining texts and paintings : Le Roi horizonal.

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