ARTIST-WORKER
STENCILS WITH A THOUSAND DETAILS
FROM WRITING TO STENCIL
Could you first tell us how you transitioned from writing to painting?
I started writing poetry and plays at a very young age, notably winning a national festival with a play called Drunk on water, according to the Drunken Boat by Rimbaud. After graduating from high school, I pursued brief literary studies, being very attached to the rule of the three unities so dear to classical authors, as well as to the cursed poets, even though I felt they were often appropriated. I sometimes had the same feeling about painting, particularly when faced with posters made after Klimt's works, which didn't do justice to his work and his impossible-to-reproduce golden effects.
I also liked the avant-garde movements of the 19th centurye century, which in my opinion represented the apogee of Western civilization, with the emergence of new schools of thought and a return to the libertine spirit that prevailed at the beginning of the 17th centurye. After a long aristocratic and elitist period, this era gave everyone the opportunity to think for themselves.
At the same time, I was interested in modern folk art movements, such as the Pop art. I had resumed the Saint George killing the dragon I recreated Paolo Uccello's work in the style of Andy Warhol, reproducing it twenty-five times on a sheet. I was captivated by this possibility of popularizing profound, interesting, and well-researched works. All these elements led me to explore my own interpretations of such works, which immediately sparked reactions from those around me, starting with the exhibition at the Lavoir Moderne in 1995.
Why choose stencils as a means of expression?
Stencils primarily offer an easy solution for those who can't draw. Even if they're unsuccessful, they can still resemble something if you take a work by Moreau or Klimt as a starting point. However, like classical versification, they adhere to formal structures and possess a genuine technical dimension. I like this idea of creation under constraint, as practiced by Oulipo, Perec, or Queneau. Upon my return from Ethiopia, my friends encouraged me to take up stenciling again, whereas previously it had been a personal practice, not something I exhibited publicly. I then dedicated myself to it after an architect friend lent me a scalpel and a cutting board. It's an art form that values self-teaching and developing one's own technique.
As for the name Artist-Worker, you explain that it comes from a lecture by William Morris and fits into a dual logic, mixing Art and know-how.
Similarly, the words hospital And hotel, artwork And work They have nothing in common, yet share the same origin. Cathedrals were built without architects or plans, by master stonemasons or sculptors who dedicated ten years of their lives to them. They were laborers, but who would dare say they weren't artists? There was no difference between the two. This is the assembly line of the 18th century.e century, then its popularization in the 19the, which separated the artist drawing with a knife from the workers manufacturing the tool. Moreover, the manufactured object is no longer a knife, but an ugly, breakable, and ubiquitous substitute. This separation of brain and hand was explained by William Morris, a Pre-Raphaelite, in a lecture and in a book., The age of the ersatz.
For my part, I wanted neither to be a worker in the contemporary sense of the term, nor an artist painting a piano pink for a million. The current vision of these two figures didn't interest me, even though they represent the most beautiful things in the world. So I wanted to bridge these two extremes by calling myself an Artist-Worker, possessing the freedom of the artist and the professional conscience of the worker. It's important to remember that before the Revolution, the aristocracy had privileges, but so did the workers' guilds: becoming an artist in Molière's time was a disgrace if you were born into a family of cloth merchants. Louis XVI himself had a fascination with manual labor and was a watchmaker. It was after 1789 that intermediaries, salespeople, and the merchant class began to be favored. The truth is that these two notions were deliberately destroyed.
EMERGENCE ON THE STENCIL STAGE
One of your first series was called Drawer bottoms. What was she referring to?
It expressed the fact that I no longer wanted to write for my drawer but to exhibit the drawer itself. What's important here is what isn't seen or read. When Renaissance painters ran out of money, they would break open the bottoms of their drawers—unnoticed—to paint a votive offering and sell it to the church to earn a living. I spent two years painting the first twelve pieces, small typesetter's drawers dating from the early 20th century.th century.
«"What is important is what is not cut out, like silence in a musical score."». How does this apply to Drawer bottoms ?
I created a portrait where the hair was actually the wood of the support. Only the outlines and the light were cut out. I played a lot with this type of effect in this series. That's what I call the spider If you cut out a moonlit scene, everything that isn't cut out will take the form of a spider. This spider isn't figurative, not immediately visible to the naked eye, but it's a presence that you feel. If it's very harmonious, it will give strength to the entire cutout.
How did this series influence your career path?
In 2005, I exhibited around a hundred drawers at Section Urbaine, a performance-exhibition I did as a duo, where I worked with Paëlla?. It was there that I met Jérôme Mesnager, with whom I've collaborated extensively since, notably through the Art Bref gallery, which was the first to have the idea of exhibiting us together. We can't be reduced to either one or the other; our styles are perfectly visible and distinct, yet together we offer something different, and that's what appeals to us.
For Jérôme Mesnager you were the artistic heir of Jean-Pierre Le Boulch.
Jean-Pierre Le Boulch's work is incredible because he created multilayer which he would then glue onto canvas. He was a popular artist, a lover of painting, who believed that one could appropriate art history and offer it to people who lacked those references. Similarly, I think one can have an aesthetic experience without knowing the work one is looking at. Le Boulch had made a strong impression on Jérôme Mesnager when he was young, and Mesnager immediately pointed out the connection that linked me to him. Pop art and to this artist whom I did not know, a French Andy Warhol with particularly beautiful and delicate work.
You have thus gradually become the link between several generations of stencil artists.
This happened in several stages. I organized an international stencil art event in Nogent, inviting many artists to create a sixty-nine-meter-long erotic mural. Between the established artists of the 80s and the newcomers of the 2000s, a Parisian stencil scene was beginning to emerge. My work, unintentionally, found itself at the crossroads between the punk and vandalistic stencils of the former and the more sophisticated ones of the latter: I thus found myself halfway between, both the last of the old guard and the first of the new.
TECHNICAL
How did you go from multilayer to the invention of double cutting, which allowed you a freer application of color by reducing the number of stencils used?
At that time, a stencil required five or six cutouts, painted using the technique of multi-layer, using one color per layer. If the stencils were positioned by eye, a slight movement risked ruining the whole thing. In the 90s, I worked with two different colors per layer. layer because I wanted to remain anonymous, and it was risky to spend too much time on the street. Later, when I wanted to sell them, I had spent enough time on the first cut that a second one would suffice. The invention of the double cut reflects my interest in Eastern philosophy, a union of opposites as opposed to dualism. I use two stencils, one for blacks and one for whites, with the remaining colors applied by hand. This allows me to revisit the piece several times, as it's easy to align two stencils. This is the stencil for the whites, or «"Chinese"», which made me famous, by creating a shadow with cut-out light. The result obtained is not a negative but a positive image.
You use the stencil as an intermediary, not as the sole decision-maker for the image. This shows that your approach is not simply that of a stencil artist.
Stencil "Cutout" is a metonymic term that defines the part, the whole, the technique, and the result. The cutting tool is also called a stencil. Ideally, I think we should first appreciate the painting itself before even beginning to consider the cutting tool. Some even find it more graphically interesting than the painting itself.
For example, I cut out a picture of Rouen Cathedral from the same viewpoint as Monet, and I painted about fifteen of them. Sometimes the fifteenth version is the best, which is interesting for creating folk art. In any case, each work is unique because the support, my mood, or the colors vary. The cutting process could be considered art, but it's only the final result that I consider a work of art, or rather, a "workshop of potential paintings," to borrow the words of the Oulipo group.
How did you apply this time-consuming technique in the street?
I quickly gained attention for my technique, which is both detailed and fast. The cutting process is certainly time-consuming, and it takes me weeks to complete a miniature, but I can paint in a raw, edgy style with a very limited color palette. Two opposites converge here: the meticulousness of the cutting and the explosiveness of the painting. Painting very quickly is ideal for vandalism, which should be distinguished from "street art": there are those who use abandoned spaces to create more detailed pieces (street art) in less visible locations, and those who prioritize speed above all else (vandalism). My technique allows me to work with both approaches, and I've earned the respect of people from both stencil and graffiti communities, who felt my approach was similar to painting.
Where do these rivalries come from?
It's important to understand that in the 80s, there were still genuine street artists in Paris, before stencil artists like Marie Rouffet, painters like Mesnager and Speedy Graphito, or poster artists like Paella? turned the city upside down. When graffiti finally arrived in France, the tagging phenomenon became so pervasive that even the street artists of yesteryear got into trouble with the police. That's also why I didn't want to go out into the streets: I wasn't positioning myself as part of an urban revolt, I didn't come from hip-hop culture but rather from techno, and I wasn't looking for either secrecy or recognition of my signature.
If my work has been recognized, it's perhaps because I am first and foremost a contemplative person, a lover of painting. I haven't put my ego or ambition into it, but my patience and passion. For a long time, I attributed to myself the quote «"I don't claim to be modest."», before discovering that it was by Jules Renard. We have to be realistic: the real painters are Monet, Moreau and Picasso: I am more of an art worker, a good stencil artist.
THE WCA: FOUNDING A SCHOOL
When did you start training other artists?
I gradually gained recognition from young people like JS and Alex, who came to me for advice. Around 2005, I just had a small office that served as my studio, with a courtyard in Belleville. My technique was priceless; I had spent ten years developing it on my own, but I allowed them to ask me questions for six months about how to cut out the shapes. At the end of that period, we had sold enough paintings to go to Barcelona for eight days to do some graffiti, even though we were also invited to create a few legal pieces. JS turned professional with Jana, to whom he passed on the technique. They are now internationally renowned.
That's how the WCA came about.
WCA are the initials of Working Class Artists, the first ones I trained. I then initiated other people in Hamburg, who took the name ASA, for Altona Stencil Art, because we worked in my studio in the Altona neighborhood. The art scene there was very fragmented, but there were so many of us that we almost doubled the number of people active on the street! ASA became so important that now people think this movement has always existed, even though I founded it in 2007.
Back in France, I settled in Normandy, in Caen, where I trained many people, including a graffiti artist, Sane2, who taught me how to better handle the spray can. It was interesting to realize that while stenciling and graffiti were originally two completely separate worlds, the reality is actually quite different. They wanted to use the name SMN for Stencil Made in Normandy, But I eventually stopped using those acronyms to group everyone who learned double cutting with me under the WCA label. It's not a group; people don't necessarily meet even though some have worked together and there have been exhibitions, but they are primarily artists, each with their own style but sharing a common technique.
How have those you trained progressed?
While the double-cut technique evokes the Oulipo's concept of constraint, I haven't made it a dogma, and those who learned from me are free to use one, or even three, cuts. Nevertheless, those who continue today, searching for subject matter and meaning, use this technique because more isn't necessary, and one cut is rarely enough. Furthermore, it allows for the development of a multitude of styles. Jana & JS truly embraced this constraint, using it to break free and build their own universe, notably through thematic combinations blending character and setting, employing stencils repeatedly. They also experiment extensively with different supports. Adey and Obi Hood, members of the Norman WCA (Walloon Artists Collective), are now acquiring this same freedom.
INFLUENCES
Your work is marked by Pre-Raphaelitism. Could you elaborate on this artistic movement and how artists like Dante Gabriel Rossetti influence your work, particularly your female figures?
I discovered the Pre-Raphaelites at university. 1848 and 1914 are important dates for me, because 1848 represents the great carpenters' strike in Paris as well as the creation of the PRB (Pre-Raphaelite Brotherhood). Pre-Raphaelite Brotherhood. It's a holistic movement, of which painting is only one dimension. Women have their say, whether as models or as artists themselves. The model is no longer an object, but a subject who invests herself in the creation of the work. The idea of a bridge between forms of creation and folk art also interests me, and I discovered a few years ago that I had an ancestor who was an engraver for the king, reproducing masterpieces otherwise visible only to princes.
We can also see the influence of 19th-century French painterse century like Moreau or Caillebotte.
They are linked by the era and by the fact that they are avant-garde movements of the 19th century.e century, but between Impressionism and Symbolism there's a game of labels that doesn't refer to anything concrete, just as within Street Art, which can't be limited to collage, stencils, and graffiti. Among the Impressionists, Caillebotte is very different from Monet or Manet. I like their use of light and their depictions of everyday life, whereas I appreciate the complete opposite in Gustave Moreau: his attention to detail, his baroque style, and his mythological scenes. For my part, I don't focus on a subject devoid of detail, light, and meaning. Nevertheless, some paintings, like the Planers have greatly popularized my work and my pseudonym, while also allowing recognition of the manner.
STREET ART: FREE ART?
In what ways was your speech groundbreaking in the field of Street Art?
Fifteen years ago, the idea of exhibiting urban art in a gallery was crazy. I was a pioneer among the new generation because I was able to speak in front of a crowd of squatters and anarchists to explain that my goal was to escape the streets through stencils. I also championed the idea of not vandalizing, which was unthinkable for the graffiti artists of the 90s. I think that if people can buy a piece, that's great. Conversely, if others can't, I can always paint a wall for them for free.
However, we need to stop talking about street art as if it were free: who can afford to spend time and energy in the street without any return? We need to distinguish between free and gratuitous: the free parties of the early technivals weren't free, but specified "pay what you want." If you're poor, you're welcome, but if you're better off, you can contribute. One December 31st, I created a shadow puppet Virgin Mary for squatters, anarchists, and atheists who were protesting. I then performed open-heart surgery on the stencil placed on the overhead projector, cutting out the radiant heart of the Virgin with a scalpel to reveal the lettering: «Our Lady of the Quarters». From then on, it became a tribute to the work that these squatters had been doing for years at Grange-aux-Belles, but also to a certain idea of free creation.
How has this situation evolved with the professionalization of urban art?
I managed to put classical, religious, or intellectual paintings in the street without anyone batting an eye. I was developing a structured and somewhat innovative discourse that foreshadowed what would happen with the professionalization of urban art. It was necessary to lay these foundations to avoid going from one extreme to the other, from "vandal" to "sellout." From the outset, I opposed conformism, whether it came from the mainstream or of nonconformity itself.
However, street art eventually evolved. In 2006, at Arts Citoyens, JR put up posters all around the Blancs-Manteaux space, while I was sharing my work with WCA that year. He generated his own buzz by holding a private opening even though the exhibition was inside. From a publicity standpoint, it was brilliant, but ethically questionable in relation to the other artists present. I don't like the idea of using public space as advertising space and exploiting the aura of taggers and graffiti artists, heroes of the urban revolution, for personal gain. Once marketing takes over, it becomes difficult to defend the idea of "free" art for people in the street.
You claim to have no political commitment, unlike artists like Banksy.
I think his commitment rings hollow. When he goes to paint a wall in Ramallah, he doesn't talk to people to find out what they want, whereas an artist like Ernest Pignon-Ernest has been going there for thirty years to help writers, without ever putting up a single poster, because he knows it's unpopular. Speaking on behalf of people without asking their opinion is the hallmark of populist rhetoric. I don't think it's right that artists can tell me they just have to call the mayor of a district to get permission to paint. Why should I have that right and not someone else who might need it more than I do?
If someone offers me the opportunity to paint a building facade and provides me with a cherry picker and equipment, I might not need to pay extra because then it's no longer free: it's extraordinary to have that kind of visibility. Dialogue with the residents is also important to me: I painted the Planers I started at a cobbler's shop on Rue de l'Arbalète, who provided me with the stepladder I needed to work at height. Since I was going to be working in the street anyway, why not collaborate with the residents? They're the ones who will be seeing the painting every day.
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