Mahn Kloix
THE ECHO OF CONTEMPORARY STRUGGLES
A HUMAN COMMITMENT
How did you become an artist? How did seeing the "Protestants" named... person of the year Was the Time magazine in 2011 a pivotal moment in your transition to urban art?
I believe that being an artist is first and foremost an intellectual endeavor, as is its expression. The process of reflection on my work has been very long: I entered an active mode of creation when I felt I could fully embrace what I wanted to present. Even before working on Peter Hapak's photographs, I wanted to paint portraits of protesters, following an event I had witnessed in Turkey the previous year, a popular movement that originated in the heart of Istanbul. I was struck by the energy people displayed in refusing to be dictated to.
Your journey reflects on the perspective to adopt between activism, art and documentary.
I work extensively with information from the media, using almost exclusively portraits of real people. In fact, my connection to living subjects is very important, blending documentary research and observational journalism while creating a double exchange: if one of my pieces receives media attention, the people involved can contact me. This is how I've been in contact with the vast majority of the people whose portraits I've painted.
Do these meetings usually take place before or after the creation of the work?
Some meetings took place beforehand: I was then able to explicitly state what I wanted to do or which photo I wanted to use. Some people even provided the images themselves. For my project with Femen, we met and agreed on what I was going to do, even though I then managed to arrange for the installation of my collages. For a mural like the one of the Turkish singer Nûdem Durak, I hadn't contacted anyone before starting to paint. However, I put her name on the wall, and before I had even finished her portrait, the image was online. Support committees then contacted me, putting me in touch with her brother, with whom I was able to communicate using Google Translate. He, in turn, was able to show photos of the finished work to his imprisoned sister. The connection that takes place in those moments is very powerful.
THE MEMORY OF AN ERA
There is always a slight time lag between the time of the event and the time chosen for the artistic action.
I almost never react impulsively, because I've always felt it was inappropriate to seize upon a topic simply because it's in the news. When time has passed, it's possible to gain perspective on the situation: if we revisit it, if we put it back into its context, it gains relevance. My next mural is about what happened in Ceuta a year and a half ago. A young Red Cross volunteer welcomes a migrant on a beach, who collapses in her arms, even though he's two meters tall and she's one meter three. The contrast is striking between this frail person on one side and this giant on the other. The image was published in the Spanish press, and the far-right attacked the young woman, deeming it disgusting "to welcome invaders." While things have calmed down, I think it's important to talk about it now, because what happened then could happen again.
Could we refer to your work as a "memory of the present"?
I like the expression "memory of the present": there's a disconnect that arises from being in a communication system that encourages perpetual data flows, where information only has value because it exists at a specific moment, disappearing very quickly, leaving people constantly moving on to something else. This has always been the case and didn't begin with social media; that's why I find it interesting to talk about memory, but one anchored in the present.
Through your project on Femen, you also question the memory of places. The collages thus bring back to life the sometimes very recent past of the places where they acted.
The reason I'm talking about this is that this past is also a future, that it can be repeated. I'm not interested in creating portraits of women who fought for the right to vote in France at the time. French women's right to vote is a given; it won't be taken away, even though achieving it was certainly a testament to resilience in the face of a system. Conversely, the fact that a current concern, like access to abortion, can be called into question affects me. If the election results had been different yesterday, the question would have been raised. Through this example, I'm trying to talk about who we are and the social struggles we are waging today.
Therefore, would it seem right to you to speak out through your actions about reactivating struggles?
I don't intend to bring them back to life, but rather to show that they haven't disappeared, that they still exist. Just because something happened at a certain point doesn't mean everything has changed. If the problem had been solved, I might not be talking about it anymore. For me, it's more about giving voice to an action that is still alive, hence the title of my Opus. In resonance.
A CRY IN THE FACE OF THE WORLD
You mention the idea of resilience: what difference do you make between this term and the idea of resistance?
I'm not sure I'll ever paint flowers. My work draws its inspiration from people's resilience. For me, it's about not giving in to a force that imposes something on us. Resistance is a movement; it involves many people, whereas resilience, while very similar, reflects a shift toward the personal. Occupy Wall Street and the Indignados movement were, above all, gatherings of individuals. My work speaks of people, not movements, which is why I use that word. It's something we each have within us.
Through the project Small is Big, You demonstrated the importance of the human element by giving a voice to ordinary people caught in the middle of extraordinary social events.
The mural on the Oberkampf wall tells the story of Romeo and Juliet in the present day through the story of a lesbian couple. Two girls, one Spanish and one Egyptian, whose parents live in Dubai, get together. When their parents find out, they tell Juliet that her grandmother is ill so she will return to Egypt, a country where homosexuality is punishable by death. The father imprisons them and confiscates their documents, but they manage to escape to Armenia before being arrested in Turkey and imprisoned. It is the Spanish consul who finally secures their release and repatriation. By deciding to tell their story, they find resilience. However, the acceptance of homosexuality in our societies is an issue that goes beyond these young women, as it concerns us all.
Many icons are represented in urban art. Through these figures placed on a pedestal, one can ask what prevails between the sublimation of the individual or the action they embody.
I want to pay tribute to people, while also ensuring that the viewer of the portrait can perhaps understand what it's about, which isn't at all obvious. That's why I sometimes stage my subjects. The notion of an icon doesn't matter to me. Whether I paint a portrait of Greta Thunberg or one of an anonymous person with a turtle, the subject remains the same. I sometimes refrain from depicting certain figures who nevertheless resonate with me. Julian Assange is an icon, and I wanted to paint his portrait to speak through him about freedom of the press. But as an individual, his morality has been publicly questioned, as he's accused of sexual assault. I don't know if it's true, if it's a conspiracy, or if he's a predator. But I don't depict him for his morality, but rather for what he stands for, just as I would for an anonymous person.
THE STREET AS A SOUNDING BOARD
Through these places of memory, you also create a contextual work. Does this contribute to making the street a unique space for creation?
I use public space because it is public, accessible to all, and a space for communication that allows for this idea of a sounding board. From time to time, my work can take on a contextual dimension. For Protesters, I went to put up posters in the places where the demonstrations had taken place, working with the memory of the location. For the Femen project, it was necessary to retrace all the places where they had acted. If I could always work this way, I think I would like to. But there are also practical realities: I'm not going to refuse opportunities to paint walls in places that aren't directly affected, otherwise I wouldn't be able to move forward. It's also difficult to systematically go to the affected areas, whether from a logistical or family perspective. Finally, the stories I recount don't all take place in the street.
Contextualization, however, has a direct impact on the media used: between collage and fresco, the choice of support depends on the possibility of intervening in the original context, also changing the objective of the creation.
Using collage allows me to avoid damaging the installation site, especially when I place it on the Paris Opera or the Notre-Dame forecourt. This practice is almost an artistic happening: with the Femen portraits, I was amused to discover that those that were removed the fastest weren't the ones I had in mind, and vice versa. The level of risk is also a factor: at the Trocadéro, it's impossible to draw because there are security guards everywhere. However, I hardly ever do collage anymore because I don't like the result, not to mention that it's much more ephemeral than painting.
Collage and fresco, however, involve different temporal dynamics.
There's a graphic difference between the two: with collage, you cover the wall with sheets of paper. But I really didn't like the white background in my work. So I ended up cutting out the white areas, resulting in paper filaments glued to the wall, like in the portrait of Julian Assange. This creates a significant technical challenge because the portrait then becomes very difficult to glue. It's also for this reason that I started painting directly on the wall, moving from portraits like the one of Greta Thunberg in 2019 to that of Cédric Herrou the following year, and then to those of Chloé and Ioulia, with all their shades of gray. Nevertheless, I adapt to my projects, as in Poitiers where time constraints forced me to create only a black outline in order to complete these ten murals.
CHOICE OF MEDIUMS
How do you work on your projects to arrive at the portrait?
It's a very slow creative process. When I take on a subject, I spend a lot of time reading, watching videos, trying to understand what it's about. I then search for lots of photos related to the events until I choose one I like, which I then adapt to the drawing by adding or removing elements. The next step is building the model in the studio, or on the wall if the location has been chosen beforehand.
Do you consider your graphic approach to be driven by line and drawing?
I always start with the line. After spending time researching a subject, I work very quickly, beginning with a continuous line, even when I finish with flat areas of color. It's a guiding thread that I wind and unwind, which is present throughout my work, always seeking to create texture through the line, trying to avoid hatching for shadows. Setting challenges for myself allows for perpetual exploration.
Are all your projects built with a multi-faceted approach, from the choice of media (collage, mural) to the nature of the intervention (portrait, encounter)?
This idea of multimedia really refers to combining an artistic intervention with the production of complementary video elements. I really enjoy doing it, but it requires considerable resources that I can't always gather, especially in terms of time. For Protesters, I had to interview several people before editing a video, then review the footage, translate it, and add subtitles. Nevertheless, starting from reality in order to talk about it and document it remains very important to me.
Urban art provides a framework for expression for many artists with different techniques and objectives. Why is the term "street art" able to encompass them all?
I have my own way of working, of appropriating subjects. But I'm far from being a pioneer of urban art. Some artists have been acting for certain causes for a long time, and I'm simply following in their footsteps in my own way. If no one wants to use the word street art, This is because it is frowned upon, particularly by a pioneering movement, Graffiti, whose mindset is very macho and autonomous. However, let's not kid ourselves, these are just words, and a street artist is an artist who intervenes in public space, period.
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