
Claire's first exhibition
Data obtained by:
Charlotte Kominsky
Data type:
Press article
Date:
Data found at:
2015
Quai Wilson 47, 1201 Geneva, Switzerland
Description
At last, she did it. She worked hard for it. And thankfully now she gets better by having the recognition she deserves.
“Nocturnes of the Unspoken”: Claire Cobert’s Haunting Debut in Geneva
By Sylvie Manzoni | Arts Correspondent | Le Journal des Lacs
📍 Geneva, Switzerland | 17 July 2015
For three days only, in the hushed stillness of summer, Geneva’s Maison de la Culture des Bains opens its doors to an extraordinary debut exhibition: “Nocturnes of the Unspoken”, a haunting, deeply personal collection of paintings by Claire Cobert, a name unfamiliar in the art world, yet heavy with unspoken history.
This is not merely an exhibition. It is a confrontation with the past.
A Voice Reclaimed in Oil and Silence
Cobert, now 20, has never before shown her work publicly. Her biography, like her art, is layered in silences and shadows. But those familiar with the quietly whispered circles of European humanitarian advocacy will recognise her name, not as a painter, but as a survivor of sex trafficking, following the downfall of deputy prosecutor Jean-Marie Duval and the scandal that followed.
Between 2012 and 2013, Cobert lived under coercion in Paris, controlled by a trafficking network that has since been partially dismantled. Her testimony, taken by a coalition of police forces across Europe all coordinated by Interpol, contributed to several covert prosecutions in France, Germany, Russia, the United Kingdom, Ukraine, Spain and Belgium. Since then, she has lived quietly in London, deliberately out of the public eye, until now.
Her emergence into the world of art comes not as a pursuit of fame, but as a necessity. As she writes in her exhibition statement:
“These works were never meant to be seen. They were exorcisms. When I learned to breathe again, I found that painting was the only way I could do it.”
The Exhibition: Raw, Symbolic, And Unrelenting

“Nocturnes of the Unspoken” features thirteen large-scale canvases, each a psychological landscape: fractured interiors, blurred female figures seen through one-way mirrors, doorways half open and never entered, mouths sewn shut with thread. Some pieces are abstract; others bear hyper-realistic detail that leaves viewers visibly unsettled.
One painting, “Sundown at Rue du Département”, depicts a windowless hallway, lit only by the red glow of a bathroom heat lamp. Another,
