LEGO TO THE PARTY
LEGO TO THE PARTY – THE GREAT ADVENTURE OF THE LITTLE FIGURES
February 2019 – 1891 words
COURSE
How did you get started working with Lego?
As a child, I spent more time drawing in my notebooks than writing in class. I also dabbled in video editing to showcase my creations and see the reactions of my high school friends, and I did some DJing at parties, always for the same reason. So, I like to sum myself up by saying that I'm a jack-of-all-trades but don't excel at anything.
I started by mistake, trying to bake a cake in a Lego mold. When it came out of the oven, it looked like anything but a Lego brick, and I decided I had to find a way to recycle it and make something else. By pouring plaster over it, the result was incredible when I unmolded it, and I used that as a base to paint on before sticking it up in the street.
Why did you choose to stick them in the street?
I started placing Lego bricks in the street after a bet at work, because I'd been aware for several months of the frenzy generated by Instagram, but my colleague didn't believe me. The right photograph, with the right hashtag, can garner a large number of likes. I wanted to see how much I could get by producing something.
The first time a stranger finds a figurine, takes the time to stop and repost it on social media, it brings a feeling of joy and emotion. So I continued to stick them for that reason, hoping it would reach as many people as possible.
LEGO: THE MOVIE ADVENTURE
How visible are your pieces on the street?
My problem stems from the fact that 3D pieces are easily torn off. The lifespan of my Lego creations on the street ranges from a few hours to a few days; once, it even lasted the duration of a walk. I think that street art, with its explosion in galleries and museums, is attracting more and more people. Since people aren't going to tear down a wall (unless it's a Banksy), they turn to these 3D pieces that are so easily accessible: even Invader's work gets taken down! You don't need any tools; if you scratch them a little, they come off, and people start collecting them.
Paradoxically, they don't have time to get cleaned up. Once, one of them was painted over by Paris city workers, thus better camouflaged. They don't deteriorate either: before, I used plaster, which damaged them with water, but that's no longer the case now that I use polyurethane resin, which preserves them longer.
In fact, the majority of them will not be photographable by the public.
It's also because they're small and discreet. I've made them in three different sizes: the smallest are the size of Lego bricks, the medium ones are ten centimeters, and the largest are currently twenty centimeters. For the latter, I made the mold myself, which was quite difficult: that's why I try to display them in galleries rather than on the street. I don't want a piece that took me so much time and effort to be ripped off in an hour.
How do you choose what you're going to depict on it?
Because of their size, the smallest ones are minimally decorated and are therefore applied like a simple sticker. I paint the medium and large ones the same way, without any difference due to size, although the 3D effect doesn't make the task easy. TocToc thought it was ridiculous to paint on Lego, but he quickly realized it's not so simple! As for the design, I give free rein to my inspiration of the moment, while trying to make it appealing to a wide audience: it might be characters from TV series that inspire me, like The Fresh Princes of Bel Air or the Simpson, but also popular films, such as Die Hard Or Harry Potter. For more abstract drawings, I jot down shapes I like on Instagram, which is my personal museum, as I hate places that force you to do a complete tour. I go with my gut, stopping at what speaks to me the most.
Sometimes I throw paint on them to see the result, and I see them collect a very large number of likes While it sometimes took me two seconds, at other times the feedback is mixed after three hours of work. I take it in stride; these are the rules of Instagram. Everyone doesn't think the same way, nor do they have the same interests. Art is something you can't explain to someone else.
Would you like to be able to animate these frozen figurines?
If they're currently very static, I'd like to work on a fifty-centimeter model to make it more flexible. Once glued, they wouldn't move, but it would be possible to fix the arm in the desired position. At the moment, I'm already having them hold accessories, but their arms remain at their sides. I painted the four Ninja Turtles, but being static, they lacked dynamism. This would allow me to create more scenes.
Do you glue your pieces together spontaneously?
I have favorite spots, but I usually put up my Lego pieces after leaving a bar. I regularly place my Lego pieces in the Marais, near Bastille or République. With Toctoc, we go to busy areas, where the street art is. hunters They'll go searching. But I also often go out on my scooter to discover new walls, head up, on the lookout, a little dreamy. It's a way for me to discover the city, since I have a bad habit of getting lost.
THE STREET AS A RESONATING BOX
It seems that your approach is motivated more by a viral dimension than by a relationship with the street.
I have no prior connection to street art, and I actually started primarily through Instagram. The street introduced me to artists like TocToc, Dark Snooopy, and Jaeraymie, but I never considered doing graffiti myself. My Lego creations are street art because it has to be categorized, but I mainly do it for fun and to make people smile. Once you get hooked, you want to keep going.
The street therefore serves as your sounding board.
It's a place where I like to surprise people, whereas I use Instagram as a personal gallery. I continue my work in the street to catch their eye and observe people's reactions, how they take their photos and interact with my subjects. I don't want to do that alone at home.
How does Instagram become your personal museum?
I have two types of posts On Instagram: I take a first photograph right after finishing work, as a backup. The second image is of the Lego set in situ, placed in the street. I try not to place the piece directly in the middle of a wall, in order to preserve the background, the continuity of the street, the clouds… I made a point of posting a post every two days, which forces me to work, otherwise I probably would have lasted a week.
What kind of interaction is there with passers-by?
While many people struggle to distinguish between Lego and Playmobil, seeing them all instantly evokes a sense of childhood. My most amusing memory is of a collector who, upon purchasing a piece in a gallery, explained that it wasn't for Lego and then launched into a theory about my work. It's astonishing to see the folklore people develop around a single piece. Lego evokes all those feelings stemming from childhood: imagination, smiles, joy, and memories.
UNIVERSALLY RENOWNED FIGURES
How did the universal fame of Lego play a role in the recognition of your work?
At first, my Instagram was followed only by Lego fans. With this community, I discovered a whole new world that made me feel like a kid again, especially since the brand is making a comeback with new movies. It was the right platform at the right time, one that no one had used in this way before: I'm sure I gained more recognition from these minifigures than from the scribbles I might make on them. It's through these fans that my Instagram gained visibility and that the general public discovered what I was doing.
Have you ever felt that Lego was a limitation, that certain things couldn't be written or drawn on it?
I've always had a hardcore spirit. I love the contrast between childish Lego and the obscenities it can express. At one point, I used to add speech bubbles, creating sentences with my brother. This juxtaposition of Lego and insults amused us greatly, even though I make sure never to hurt anyone: my only limit is not to offend anyone with what's written on the walls.
Do you feel like you are part of a pre-existing artistic movement?
Street art has brought me encounters and friendships. But I don't feel affiliated with it: I could live outside of it. Now I go to see what other artists are doing, which wasn't the case before. Furthermore, there's obviously a generational effect, because apart from certain exhibitions, it's difficult to interact with older generations.
How could you take Lego even further?
My next step is to work on the giant. I've been working on this project for almost a year, but since I'm self-taught, molding takes time to learn. However, I'll have the pride of having done it entirely on my own. I'd also like to develop the concept of pixel art, creating a Lego frame with lots of little figures on it. I think that would allow me to make larger murals.
I would also enjoy depicting rural landscapes, like those you see at your grandparents' house or in roadside bistros.
Have you ever wanted to work with the brand?
Some die-hard fans resented me for painting on Lego. And deep down, I've always been afraid that if I approached a major brand, they'd tell me to stop. If Lego offered me the chance to paint on a giant figure, I'd be thrilled, of course, but I'm not going to approach them. In the meantime, I'm continuing to be as viral as possible with my Instagram account. The day I achieve something through this account will be extraordinary.
Can you imagine breaking free from this concept?
When I thought I was stuck, mosaics allowed me to try a new form of expression. Lego is what represents me, and if I were to stop, I would stop completely, or I would choose another concept, a new name. I built myself around this idea and don't see why I would change it. Lego has managed to reinvent itself over time, and there's no reason for it to lose its appeal. I still have a great many stories and characters to invent.
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