Foal
PAINTING THE MODERNITY OF THE CLASSICS
COURSE
How did you become an artist? When did you start out busking?
I think I've always been an artist. It's been in me since I was very young; my father painted as an amateur and instilled in me a love of painting and drawing. However, I never felt I had the right to call myself an artist. It was only after graduating from the École du Louvre that I was finally able to affirm it and decided to make it my full-time profession. The documentary Break down the wall! Banksy's work was a revelation and inspired me to start painting in the street. However, I consider myself first and foremost a painter on canvas, a contemporary artist.
CLASSIC PAINTS, POP COLORS
You are interested in the smooth side of classic painting, in contrast to the roughness of the wall, which gives an aesthetic duality to your rooms.
For one of my latest murals in Versailles, I drew inspiration from a work by the Leonardo da Vinci school depicting Saint John the Baptist to explore the refined and delicate aspects of classical painting. Juxtaposed with the roughness of the concrete wall, the interplay of textures creates a result I find very appealing. Aesthetically, I've recently focused on depicting faces and flesh, often using spray paint for the bodies and flat acrylic backgrounds. Spray paint can indeed mimic the brushstrokes, as seen in the works of Andrea Ravo Mattoni. However, I use oil paint for the faces, which allows me to achieve a more classical look. This creates a contrast between the academic drawing inspiration and the vibrant colors used for the background. These contrasts between the vivid and luminous and the raw materials interest me both on canvas and on the wall.
Your work presents a conscious play on anachronism, a clash of narrative universes.
I go beyond that. Through my biblical images, I reclaim powerful images that speak volumes without words. Previously, they were aimed at the illiterate, but I try to transpose them into a contemporary language, addressing issues of our time, such as the question of plastic. In this way, I attempt to create a bridge between my studies and my practice. I am passionate about art history, mythology, and religion. By drawing on historical sources, by taking inspiration from paintings less well-known than the Mona Lisa, and by presenting them primarily in the street, I hope to impart more erudite knowledge to a wider audience than what is superficially understood. This allows me to break the codes of classical art, while also reaching people who might not otherwise have seen these paintings in a studio or museum. There is both a connection and a divide between classical art and the vibrant, pop colors of contemporary art. What matters to me is connecting the two so that urban art enthusiasts can discover these works when they might not dare to visit overly imposing galleries. I embrace these combinations because I myself feel a mixture, at the crossroads of several currents, attempting to connect present anxieties with powerful images from the past in order to make them travel through time.
In your work, we discover an exploration of the body and gesture.
I worked on my feet and hands throughout the series Erotic enema, Because with Covid, we went mad with washing, to the point of bleeding. I wanted to make this sad reality a little more erotic, particularly through a close-up of the washing of Christ's feet (another biblical quote). I also really enjoy depicting postures, working with the body and flesh, but not the violent movements found in Caravaggio's paintings with their abrupt gestures and silent cries. My figures are often hieratic, poised, calm.
In an interview, you talk about "conveying a message subtly." What does a form of gentle engagement mean to you?
I try to emulate Renaissance art, those paintings that required searching for clues to be deciphered. To understand them, you had to know them. This subtlety allows me to paint rather gentle works, because behind an obvious first clue, I can reveal a crisis through a second meaning, or evoke a social problem. Through this gentleness, I hope to lead people to look at the work and ask themselves the right questions. It's not a matter of laziness, but I often use the original title of the work so as not to disrupt the interpretation. Sometimes, I give these pieces slightly provocative names. I'm thinking in particular of a fresco, "The Fountain Man," an amusing female perspective, a nod to... female gaze.
These indicators can also expose the consumerism of society.
My latest painting depicts the Virgin Mary drinking a margarita through a plastic straw. The message here is subtle, more so than when I portray Christ with a fake crown of thorns. After exploring this theme extensively, I had moved away from it somewhat to try and broaden my painting subjects, not wanting to become simply an environmental activist. Behind an initial decorative or pop art interpretation, the painting addresses the issue of consumerism.
PAINTING IN LARGE FORMAT
What difference in materiality does the wall offer compared to the canvas?
This difference in form, particularly working on a large scale, leads to a difference in technique. It's a large canvas with its own challenges, and a different kind of excitement too, generated by the discomfort, the rain, the cold. My goal is indeed to work on a giant scale. It's a challenge because while canvas formats are smaller and painting is on a human scale, the wall tends to make everything seem disproportionate. What interests me is transcending the human dimension, because it's a way of pushing my limits, even if it's difficult to pinpoint exactly why it appeals to me so much. Nevertheless, all formats are similar in the satisfaction they bring from having created something.
Painting murals, your creative time in the street is particularly long. Through this desire to create large-format works, you seem to be seeking a certain permanence.
At first, I cut out stencils, but, not wanting to confine myself to a rigid style, I wanted to explore a more fluid, sculptural approach, transferring paintings originally created on canvas onto walls. One of the challenges of street art is the limited time available for creation. Since I'm unable to paint quickly, I look for locations that aren't too risky, tolerated, or even authorized, so I can dedicate the necessary time. I also seek commissions, as it's very difficult to create large-scale pieces as a vandal. I accept the ephemeral nature of the work, because from the beginning, I was putting up pieces that wouldn't last a night before being torn down. But when you create collages without printing, sticking only your own paintings, you don't have the same perspective on time. As for the murals, they sometimes last for a few months at Spot 13.
Do you make sketches before starting your murals on the wall?
I sometimes do studies to develop new techniques, like a recent exercise in blending for painting clouds. At the very beginning, I didn't necessarily draw many, but now I usually sketch before starting a mural, like at Spot 13. I studied the colors for my last mural at Café du Globe because the red light absorbed all the nuances. So, several color sketches were necessary in that case. I'm actually repainting that subject, but this time on canvas; the colors will be different.
ON URBAN ART
Do you consider urban art to be an artistic movement? If so, do you consider yourself part of it?
I read Codex Urbanus's book, which is very interesting. I think we're getting a bit confused with all the different terms, from Urban Art to Street Art, because it's become a commercial venture. You even find artists in galleries labeled as such, even though we've never seen their work in the street! This creates a double standard with artists who actually present their work in urban spaces. Personally, I'm a studio artist who transposes my pieces onto walls. I don't mind being called an urban artist, but I can't be only that. This means I sometimes find myself caught between Urban Art galleries and Contemporary Art galleries.
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