The lethal radiation has already completed its sinister task and only a few survivors remain, all condemned to certain demise. Some of them wander away from their homes seeking unlikely refuge elsewhere. The song of birds has become a not so distant memory. Some children, still unaware, continue playing while their parents gather random belongings in resolute despair. Only remnants of past sceneries remain. We see a shoreside hut off in the distance only barely recognizable having been leveled by the blast of a nuclear reaction. We find ourselves with Frédéric Poincelet, although only fictionally speaking (thank God!), to be the last witnesses of a world struck by an apocalyptic disaster. (Remember: apocalypse also means revelation).

After all, these are Frédéric Poincelet's last drawings, drawings that take us back to 1959, the year of the release of the Stanley Cramer film, On The Beach, in which a similar story is told about a handful of survivors only a few days after the nuclear holocaust that's come about as the result of World War 3. 

The Last Judgment and Armageddon are recurring themes in the history of art. The Aztecs, apparently more concerned than other civilisations, performed human sacrifices in offering to the Sun God in hopes the Sun would reappear. In a more serene and peaceful way Poincelet decided he would exorcize the world of these apocalyptic demons. He did this by relegating to paper scenes of devastation and despair not imbued without a certain poetic manner of venom and decadence. With his characteristic rigor and near mathematical precision the artist offers more color laden drawings than he used to. These colors are of the faded variety, like the colors seen on old 16 mm film - in keeping with the cinematic imagery. The overall presentation of his work is rather panoramic.

Oddly enough, the framework of his starker sceneries (landscapes, staircased interiors, and ocean views) bring to mind the abstract, conceptual, and slightly maniacal drawings of Sol Lewit.

This collection of drawings by Frédéric Poincelet is also reminiscent of the poetry of fright of Eugène Guillevic.
                                                                                                           
                                                                                                                            Philippe Ducat