Missgreen Frog

December 2020

PCHISELED CHOIRS AND COLORFUL ORIGAMI


COURSE

When did you make your first stencils?

This is all very recent; I've never worked in the visual arts before, having a scientific background in biology. Initially, I was just observing: I lived in eastern Paris, and on Rue de Lagny, near the Porte de Vincennes, there was an abandoned bus depot covered in street art. I walked past it every day, taking photos and watching: it seemed crazy to me that pieces painted just ten days before could be covered so quickly. One day, a friend who enjoyed airbrushing introduced me to stencils, a real solution to my creative urges. Being a natural observer, I like to touch and experiment with materials, applying what others do in my own way to arrive at a style I call "mixing and matching." I then started creating my first flamingos to practice, giving them to my friends and family. Then I remembered that by taking the shadow of a photograph and keeping only the black areas, it was possible to reproduce the image. It was magical for me, someone who couldn't draw, to achieve this result, transforming shadows into cutouts. I then chose to continue using a single black stencil, which was both simple for a beginner and, in my opinion, very elegant.

BLACK PORTRAITS AND VIBRANT ORIGAMI

Your stencils are chiseled and minimalist: how do you envision the image at the time of cutting?

The initial image has to appeal to me, to evoke an emotion: this can be achieved, for example, through symbolic poses. I then work on the shadows, the parts of the body or face that I want to emphasize. Certain elements need to be distinguished for the image to retain its meaning. For Josephine Baker, I wanted to highlight her heart-shaped earrings, but since I couldn't include all the details on a stencil of that size, I opted for a single black silhouette that would allow her to be recognized. Thus, black on white represents an elegance that suits these women of the 1920s very well, while the origami will draw the eye by adding a touch of color.

Why represent strong female figures, such as Louise Brooks and Kiki de Montparnasse, or a feminist icon like Rosie Power?

I initially chose women because I am one myself. The 1920s were a time of the first major emancipations, even if they didn't happen on all levels, but they were also a rich period in the world of fashion, with these strong women who, free from constraints, wore trousers or changed their hairstyles. I find there's a lot to create around this period, particularly through portraiture. However, even though I enjoy revisiting these figures, it doesn't prevent me from creating other things, like these pieces that explore nature reclaiming its place in the city.

But my frog primarily chooses themes related to her pleasures and hobbies. I try not to steer her towards politically charged messages. Even if she sometimes veers towards Rosie Power or a 1950s woman enjoying herself, I quickly correct her and reserve the feminist struggles that resonate with me for my true identity. I like my frog to remain lighthearted and playful!

You directly associated origami with your stencils, which brings colour and a volume effect.

Using black for the stencil also helps the origami stand out, a touch of color that will surprise passersby and encourage them to approach. Once the image is chosen, I think about how to attach it, for example, with a button or a brooch. I then use the folded paper as an accessory, a garment that personalizes the shape. I make sure the original image remains attractive even if the origami is removed, as it regularly disappears. However, some pieces lose their meaning when the two are no longer combined: for example, I created a parody of a 1950s woman, found in a cookbook. Without the origami duck, the joke fell flat. Finally, beyond its meaning, it also serves as a signature, allowing me to distinguish my image from pre-existing ones. It's actually a bit of a paradox to want to be recognized in this way, when I prefer to be discreet in my work.

STICK IN THE STREET

Why choose collage as a medium in urban spaces?

I'm quite obedient by nature, not a big rebel. Since the collage is ephemeral, it can be removed without damaging anything. It's a kind of respectful prohibition. I don't mind at all that others do graffiti or paint, but for me, it was already very complicated to be able to paste things up: it's like tearing a page out of a book! Generally, I know in advance where I'm going to place my stencil, having identified a spot, not necessarily a wall, with which it will resonate: this is the case with Kiki de Montparnasse in Ingres's violin based on the Man Ray photograph, which I liked to stick in front of the public baths. Even if the public doesn't see it, there's often a detail, funny or historical, that makes my piece, in my opinion, the right place.

What is your view on the particularly ephemeral nature of glued paper? 

I really like this ephemeral aspect because the piece can thus touch passersby, surprise them, and then ultimately disappear. These discreetly placed works, simultaneously present and absent, resonate with my personality. Collage is comparable to life moving forward, a trace of my passage at a given moment. Whether it's recognized or not, whether people stop or not, doesn't matter: it's pleasant to be seen, and I'm proud when my signature is recognized, but my primary goal is to surprise the viewer.

You speak of abandonment to refer to the work once it has been installed. Photography will allow us to remedy this.

When I stick up a piece, I let it go. But there's never any sadness, and I'm even happy when it's in the right place. I often accumulate them, taking advantage of having them around the house; the decision to stick them up comes from a sudden impulse: you can't keep everything, after all. Photography, on the other hand, is a record of life: I have a job I'm passionate about, so I don't have much time for my stencils, yet I want to preserve an image of them, to let them go while still keeping them. In this respect, Instagram is the album of my journey through the streets, because I showcase everything I've pasted up there.

In what way is the street a unique space for creation?

The street, through its architecture and statues, proves to us that museums aren't the only places that house art. Street art follows in this tradition, offering an additional medium for making art accessible everywhere. However, unlike the previously mentioned media, it is freely given and shared, accessible to all. If it's not to everyone's liking, anyone can walk by without being bothered: it can only do good. Furthermore, there's no need for prior approval from an artist, gallery owner, or peer… Anyone can create art in the street without being an artist.

ON URBAN ART

Do you think Street art is an artistic movement? Do you feel like you're part of it?

I don't know if it's a movement, because I feel like we've always drawn on walls. In my opinion, the main difference is that more and more people are allowing themselves to do it. They're going out and taking to the streets, whereas before that wouldn't have been possible. Within this group, we don't all have the same aspirations, between those for whom it's a creative hobby and those who want to make a living from it. There are people who want to create occasionally, for a few years, and those who want to be in the spotlight. They produce a lot, seek out spots to position themselves alongside other artists and gain recognition. For now, I know I belong to the first category, because the idea of selling my work stifles me, and having fun remains the most important thing. That's also why I don't want to define myself as an artist, but rather as a craftsperson.

Regarding the spotlight, how do you view these walls that group together a multitude of rooms?

When I started, I thought it was brilliant, because each artist continued in this way, a sort of exquisite corpse. So I glued pieces together once or twice, finding that the result worked perfectly: I had thus placed the matron of Peaky Blinders Next to a little boy by Léo & Pipo. But I was advised not to do it anymore, because where I can find meaning, someone else might not. So, I continue my work nearby, avoiding those large walls where the artworks are hard to see, always trying to surprise. There are high-quality collages everywhere, but I prefer to discover them alone on a street corner.

However, collaborations allow for collective creations.

Collaborations allow me to meet people from a world I was completely unfamiliar with and can lead to a true artistic alchemy, whether planned or spontaneous. It can be spontaneous or take several months, be a one-off event or a regular occurrence, but that's what makes street art so interesting: it allows us to come together around a shared intention, which is to create pieces together to appeal to passersby. With C+S, we spent months working on a collaboration, but the pasting was a magical moment. Today, I see Marquise a lot, and I believe good things can come of it, and above all, a beautiful friendship.

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