Fé_tavie
A WALL FOR TELLING STORIES
COURSE
How did you become an artist? When did you start out busking?
It's still a bit difficult for me to consider myself an artist, because I didn't grow up in that environment. I used to draw the flowers in my grandmother's garden, but it was in 2016, while I was working as a window dresser and traveling a lot in Europe, especially in Berlin, that I discovered sticker culture. I did it for a year before gradually moving towards paste-ups, posters, and murals.
Your work has undergone strong aesthetic evolutions, both from a graphic point of view (from panties to animals) and in the use of mediums (from stickers to mural painting).
I really like the expression, "You know what you're capable of when you do it." When I put up my first sticker, I never imagined I'd end up painting a four-meter-long exterior wall. Yet everything followed a logical process: I started drawing with the sticker, before using the poster to work on compositions. This continued with fairly simple collages, like panties with flowers, which I mainly posted abroad. Then, suddenly, there was Covid, and I found myself at home, drawing a lot. While I had started without taking myself too seriously, I wanted to express something more personal, which isn't always easy. Drawing became a way to do that. It was during lockdown that I started drawing foxes, even though I had never drawn animals before.
What did those panties represent for you? Why did you stop so abruptly?
I started out just for fun, but I wasn't taken seriously in the art world. People found it cute, funny, sweet, or feminist, but not very credible. It was also a matter of timing: I wasn't planning on making it a full-time profession. It was more about creating art from a feminine perspective, but I didn't see myself doing it for the rest of my life. Nevertheless, putting them up opened up a lot of possibilities. For a while, I was in transition; I was making pictures of panties and animals, and it wasn't working anymore.
CHARACTER ANIMALS
You gradually moved from the multiple to the original, even going so far as to give names to your creations.
When I draw a fox, I don't move on to something else right away: I've drawn a great many of them, until I can transform them into characters, giving them names and their own distinct characteristics. There's this desire to represent an animal that moves me, that has its own story and also connects me to my own, especially the walks in the forest I took as a child with my father. While it's often misunderstood and considered a pest, drawing it again and again allows it to become part of a family. Now that I've managed to build up a "large bestiary" (as Marquise would say), these animals even form a small army. Some animals will stay, others will arrive, and still others that I'll never draw. Cats don't appeal to me; personally, I prefer wolves and woodland creatures.
Through this personification of animals, you also add a narrative dimension to your work.
Someone told me they liked my work because of the stories I tell. At first, I didn't mix animals, but now I make them interact, place them with humans, give them expressions. Last December I painted my first oil on canvas, a complex composition with animals entitled «"The pests"». The titles I give are always very important in my work. Here, it allowed for a double interpretation: at first glance, you see young people with animals. But these animals weren't chosen at random: the weasel, the starling, and the fox are all classified as pests and are heavily hunted. The young people displayed certain symbols, like wolf paws, signifying their commitment. Together, they formed a common group targeted by a segment of the population.
Your luminous style is reminiscent of illustrations in children's books.
I'm not against using that word, but people often look down on it, as if you can't be an adult and enjoy simple things, like children's books. I mainly use primary colors, and I rarely mix them. I grew up with Martine, Caroline, and the Disney Club. Martine is accompanied by her dog Patapouf and her cat Moustache. Caroline lives in a world where cats wear overalls and dogs wear pants. They have names, and their colors are very bright. Perhaps that inspiration is reflected in my work. I've always loved illustrations, the comic strip aspect. Sometimes, a painting can't explain everything; I can't choose the most appropriate expression. In an illustrated book, I could include several, and that's one of the reasons I'd love to draw them.
Do you work on your animals first through line work or through the choice of colors?
My style is already starting to evolve. I used to have a black outline, but switching to oil paints meant I had to refine it, which forced me to work on color mixing. I paint my foxes in a very specific shade of orange, although I might occasionally add touches of blue or pink for fun.
FROM SKETCH TO MURAL
How did you transition to mural painting?
I've always lived in Aubervilliers: I used to live in the housing project before moving to the Saint-Denis canal. Every day I saw these accessible and permitted walls near my home. I wanted to try it out and I loved it immediately. Today, they're very important training grounds for me. I'm very proud of my roots, fifty percent from Aubervilliers, fifty percent from Normandy. I think you always feel most comfortable when you paint at home. Everything I do contains references to William the Conqueror. I've lived here for forty years now, and it's very important for me to know that my experience with murals stems from that one time I picked up a paintbrush and went to paint on the wall near my home, to know that the opportunity I've had is thanks to my city.
Does your work on the sketch allow for research or is it intended as preparation before a wall painting?
It's a process of study and research because, having not been drawing for very long, I need my drawing to remain fluid when I'm standing in front of a wall or a canvas. Through repetition, I manage to develop a memory for the line. After drawing one hundred and fifty foxes, I'm more comfortable and no longer need to look at my sketch to know the expression I want to give it. I thus have entire folders of sketches for each of my animals that I don't show, far more in fact than finished canvases or murals. Recently, I've developed another style of study in watercolor: working with splashes of color, I need to know how they will come together. At first, I thought this study work wouldn't interest anyone, but now I'm beginning to think that it's just as important as the finished piece and deserves to be shown.
You mention "training" walls: is everything just an exercise?
I'm perpetually dissatisfied. My father asks me why I don't exhibit a particular painting; I tell him it's a practice piece. I find it very hard to accept that it's finished. When I complete a wall, I see what's wrong, and that's what motivates me to move on to the next one. I've evolved enormously in just a few years, and I don't know if I'll ever consider it anything other than an exercise. I get bored very easily and couldn't do the same thing over and over again. When the animals worked, I wanted to move on to human figures, and now I'm starting on backgrounds—it's endless!
What difference do you make between your mural paintings and your collage practice?
I continue to do collage, however, the wall takes up a lot of my time between the preparatory sketches, finding the materials, and the painting itself. Since it's a practice I'm just starting out in, I'm working on it more to improve. However, collage still interests me because it allows me to go to places where I'm not expected and thus reach a wider audience. When traveling, it can also be carried in a suitcase or backpack.
You decide to use the paintbrush as a tool when you paint your walls.
It's a matter of feeling and enjoyment. When I started, I was told I had to do graffiti, use spray paint. But I didn't like that because you're too far from the wall, and I appreciate that contact with the surface. I'd never painted with a brush before, so it was a strange sensation, but it allowed me to work with the texture. So I empty my spray cans into cups so I can use my brushes! I use this paint because the pigments are strong, but I need to spray it, to have several layers, so you can see the thickness. So I work in reverse, painting the background first because my character is always partially transparent with the base color. The spraying creates an element of chance because I never know how it will affect the overall effect.
PAINTING IN THE CITY
What is your perspective on the ephemeral, given that you have moved from collage, which lasts very little, to mural painting, which is more permanent?
When I first started pasting up my work in the streets of London, taking the Eurostar back without knowing what would happen to my collage was psychologically very difficult. But then you realize that what matters is what happens when you put up a piece. With ephemeral art, the decisive moment is the act of pasting, of sharing with people, of discussions, of encounters. I've had so many pieces destroyed that now when I'm standing in front of a wall, I don't have that apprehension because I know I have to seize the moment. If I'm wondering who's going to see it or take a picture, I won't enjoy it. I've never had access to a truly permanent outdoor wall, but pasting up my work has been a good training ground.
The act of painting a mural also changes the time of day in the city.
We don't see the same people at all. The collages are sought after by the collectors who know us. The exchanges don't happen in the street, but afterward on Instagram. But painting a wall takes a day and allows us to meet people we don't usually see: people going to work, kids coming home from school, firefighters training. It's a different crowd, a crowd that's at home.
In what way is the street a unique space for creation?
There's a notion of freedom that's extremely important. I studied fashion design before working in ready-to-wear, but as I climbed the ladder, I wasn't happy. The structure was too rigid: you always had to obey orders, have fixed hours and colleagues, and couldn't choose your vacation time. In the street, you're free to choose when you put up your stickers, where, what you do, which photo you take, which one you share. I don't think I've ever seen such a broad sense of freedom. It's astonishing how much we're conditioned by society: putting my first sticker on a lamppost made me tremble like a leaf, whereas today painting a mural doesn't faze me at all. I realized that nothing was wrong, that it felt good, and that I could make all these decisions. When I was putting up stickers, people sometimes told me they were going to call the police, reminding me that I was doing something illegal. But it's not something I do to rebel against the system; rather, it's a reaction to what they're trying to prevent me from doing. However, street art is so heavily influenced by collage that it's difficult to consider it vandalism in Paris today.
How do you choose your picture frame for the wall?
I usually start with a desire, and I'm really into knights right now. It's very complicated for women in street art and the art world; there's a real struggle. So I want to create an urban woman wearing a knight's helmet. Here, we know we're working on a 2.5-meter wall, so it will be either a medium shot or an abstract piece. And I'm preparing my sketch because I work with a grid. When I don't know the wall's dimensions, you have to use a broad approach to avoid creating something too long or square.
What is your relationship with photography?
Photography is very important, which is why I'm only on Instagram. It's all images; very few people read the text. I take a lot of photos of my partners when they're painting, especially behind the scenes. When you see a mural, it looks like it was painted in two minutes, but sometimes it's been a week, or even several months, that we've been working on it. I'm interested in documenting this behind-the-scenes aspect.
WOMAN ARTIST IN THE STREET
How important is the group to you? The importance of collaborative creation?
There's already a logistical aspect: when you're painting on a wall, you have a lot of equipment that you can't keep track of, so having several people helps. Also, as a woman, I don't put up murals at night, and without someone else, I wouldn't go out very early in the morning alone because you have to be careful. It's also a social circle: when I talk with my family, it's not the same as when I talk with my street art "family." We have the same problems, if not necessarily the same desires. We discuss topics we can't share with other people, talking knowing we'll be understood, whereas some people think we get up at eleven o'clock to sell a canvas that we live on for three years. In the beginning, I used to wake my best friend up at seven to go put up murals in Montmartre. It's easier to be with someone who enjoys it.
Do you think it's unusual to be a female artist in the urban space?
I've done very little urban exploration because there's always that element of insecurity, being all alone in an isolated place. Paris isn't a very safe city; there are drunk guys, you have to be careful, even on the metro. It's easier to be with someone. When you're putting up posters, the concentration makes you more vulnerable, so it's good to have a friend keeping an eye on you. I don't draw warrior women for nothing. There's definitely a feminist struggle involved. Indeed, since I decided to do this for a living, I've been confronted by a male-dominated world. Moreover, I didn't think I'd be held back in this field where there's so much talk about freedom simply because I'm a woman. They're counted at festivals, but on March 8th, there are people in the streets talking about them. Personally, I'm lucky, because it's always been men who gave me my chance. Today, I remain surrounded by male artists who give me good advice, save me from trouble, and sometimes protect me. Nevertheless, it remains a boys' club that's difficult to navigate.
Do you consider urban art to be an artistic movement? If so, do you feel you are part of it?
I immediately defined myself as a street artist because I created in the street. Today, I consider myself more of a muralist because I actually work on the wall. But as I move towards canvas, I also lean towards New Contemporary, a remix of contemporary art. Current street art has a very business-oriented side that I can't seem to get into. It's very closed off, networked; you have to be around the right people to get the right photo, and I don't like that at all. However, this isn't always the case, as I work with people I appreciate. Nevertheless, I consider it a movement in its own right; the art fairs are getting bigger and bigger, the artists' reputations are starting to rise, and we're getting requests to do NFTs (New Film Techniques). The "street art" label is sometimes used, though, to justify rather messy exhibitions, in which the works aren't necessarily treated with care.
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