Little Fish
PUTTING WORDS TO THE PAIN
COURSE
How did you become an artist? How did you start out on the street?
For as long as I can remember, I was the one who drew. But I never really considered myself an artist, except recently when it started to feel like a profession. After high school, I studied psychology because, for me, being an artist didn't necessarily mean a job or a daily practice. I wanted to work with children with difficulties before realizing that drawing was too important to me. So I went to study at the School of Fine Arts. There, I discovered animation software and eventually found a job in e-learning, which suited me perfectly, allowing me to write, draw, and paint on the side.
Street art came much later. In 2012, I saw people putting up posters around me, and while I thought it was great, I imagined them as some kind of elite I'd never be a part of. But I realized they were happy to welcome new people. That broke down a barrier. I started by putting up drawings and written texts, before wanting to create work that contrasted more with the somewhat gritty side of the street. I figured out how to do these inscriptions, thinking I'd do it for a few days, but certainly not for so long.
Have you always had this taste for writing?
As soon as I could write, I combined speech bubbles and text because I loved comics. When I was little, I was lucky enough to have a godfather who gave me lots of comics, but not the ones meant for children; he bought things he liked, things with more detail. I really enjoyed them. Jeremiah, A series by Hermann in which the dialogue contains little touches of humor. I also discovered Gotlib very early on, and it was love at first sight, a total revelation. I was amazed. In my opinion, drawing is inseparable from text: I'm incapable of drawing "just to make it pretty," I absolutely have to add something to it. These graphic influences have correlated with the humor of films like those of Monty Python, which seem absurd without quite being so, provoking a nervous laugh.
WRITING ON THE WALLS
Why did you choose to place only text in the street?
When I used to paste up my drawings, they were excerpts from my books printed on stickers. It wasn't suitable, just a way of moving something to a different location. While I do paste out of necessity, I still want to create for the street, not placing my texts haphazardly, but in places where they will find their place. The choice of a clean cut comes from the museum inscriptions presenting the name or biography of painters. These texts fascinated me, and I was very interested in the contrast created by carefully chosen typography placed in the street, beyond the mere absurdity of the writing. For a long time, I didn't sign them, so that the only connection would be between the passerby and the text. As soon as you sign, you add a message asserting an identity. That's something else entirely.
Do you use aphorisms to adapt to the passerby's attention span?
I used in the street what I wrote in my notebooks without adapting it. That's how I've always used aphorisms. As a child, I also really enjoyed proverbs. Woody Allen's quotes manage to sum it all up in a single sentence: «"What if it was all an illusion and nothing existed? In that case, I really would have paid way too much for my carpet."» I recognize myself in these pronouncements that start grandiloquently only to fall flat. It's a technique I use regularly: shifting from lyricism to ridicule.
Your sentences demonstrate this taste for the absurd.
I like the idea of breaking with the everyday: whether you're going to work, home, heading to an appointment, or just walking by radar, you never expect to see an absurd text, especially since it's not spray-painted. This typography is reminiscent of road signs, and the text itself creates this break, those five seconds during which people will laugh or be outraged. I like to use a proverb, an old song everyone knows, stories whose ending we all know, so I can surprise people by breaking the sentence in the middle. I don't think I could have put things that are commonplace in the street. It might be a question of ego, not fame, but just like in real life, I have my own personality and I want it to stand out.
How do you construct your sentences?
It depends. Sometimes a sentence just comes to me, but other times I reread my notebook and discover a passage I like but had absolutely no recollection of writing. Other times I start a sentence and feel it could work, but I don't know how. Then I work on it, get frustrated, until I finally reach the end, sometimes days or even weeks later. In any case, I never use glue out of desperation; I couldn't. I have to be happy with the result, even a little ashamed of it: then I know I've found it.
Do you take notes constantly?
I've always carried notebooks, but for the past few years I've restricted myself to using only one so I don't lose anything. The train is a favorite place for me to draw: you're surrounded by people yet still alone, able to hear conversations. There's an atmosphere I love, one you find in small cafés very early in the morning. I jot down everything that comes to mind, without thinking I should address a particular subject or create a sentence for the street. It's a process closer to automatic writing and drawing. Some sentences don't make sense; I might complete them three days later. In a notebook, there might be one or two that I'd use on the street, but others will be useful for work or new projects… I write everything down before rereading it to see what stands out and why.
Can you write on pre-defined themes?
Sometimes I have to write on a specific theme, but it's always complicated. Spacejunk in Grenoble was organizing an event about Africa. As soon as it was announced, I started thinking about it on a blank sheet of paper. But it takes me some time, because I have to do a lot of research before, after a few weeks, thoughts start to appear in my notebooks. When I said I reread sentences I don't remember, it's because they sometimes appear like a dream; you have to let yourself be carried away.
WRITING TO EXIST
Writing in the street is often associated with a militant or committed act.
My sentences are primarily intended to bring a smile; they come from my notebooks, like a personal diary, and are also a reflection of my life. Almost all of them touch on love, unrequited love, breakups, and relationships that don't work. These are also recurring themes among the people I admire. Relationships are a source of inspiration best enjoyed with a laugh. The few political messages I write tend to resonate more during election periods, but you can't say my life is defined by politics, even if it's increasingly the case through various realizations. There are certain subjects I research without producing anything, such as the relationship between France and Algeria. It's a fascinating story, quite representative of France's attitude towards its former colonies, and towards other countries in general. But it's a delicate and very complicated subject to address, one I've never discussed publicly. However, if it's a matter of to write "I don't like war"« It's not my problem; it needs to be subtle, and that's hard to be on these subjects. Furthermore, I'm wary of a certain opportunism that can exist around these social issues.
What kind of letting go does it involve to place these personal phrases in the street? Does the text here carry a more intimate dimension than the image?
I never really thought about it. I think that at first, not signing my work suited me. Thanks to the filter of humor, I don't feel like I'm revealing too much. This intimate dimension is also part of contemporary comics, particularly graphic novels, so it seemed obvious to me. When I started art school, all these sketchbooks were very personal; only my closest friends had seen them. But over time, they ended up influencing my projects. Showing them for the first time back then was a terrible ordeal. People found them funny, which helped me get through it. I realized that some people would like them and others wouldn't, which made it easier to put them up in the street later on. It was simply a matter of broadening the audience. And what's great about street art is that it has its share of enthusiasts, people who, back when I wasn't signing my work yet, sought me out. It was very touching and showed how much they appreciated my work. When I do autographs, a connection is immediately formed because they feel like they're talking to someone they know. These encounters always give me a boost. True street art enthusiasts form a community that shares this enthusiasm.
Do you consider it to be primarily a literary work?
I think so. My main goal is to convey a feeling. I never prepare my collages six months in advance. I don't like waiting, and when I started out, I simply wanted an English typeface, for its slightly elegant feel, which for me reinforces the incongruity, like saying something outrageous in a tuxedo. I now have a machine that cuts the text, and I've stopped removing the punch marks because it was less work and the result was nice. That's my only aesthetic choice: I love typography, but my work isn't graphic.
You said in an interview that you couldn't commit to something repetitive.
I don't think I could do it because I'd fall into depression. I rarely stay in the same company for more than a few years because if I feel like I'm not progressing, I get bored, and in that case, I can hit rock bottom. It's the same with my artistic practice. I don't get bored on the street because there are always new encounters, new things to do. With text, it's impossible to work mechanically because the result would be bad, and I'm not interested in rehashing the same sentence for ten years. If I were to move away from street art, it would probably be more because of a system than a practice. But all formats interest me, and I would love, for example, to write columns.
You also explained that things done in a dilettante fashion are sometimes the most successful.
During lockdown, there was this rather strange injunction encouraging people to do lots of things. I found it almost inappropriate. I felt obligated to dedicate this time to writing and drawing, and as soon as I'm forced, I lose the desire to do it. Working in a dilettante fashion is exactly what I do with my notebooks: if I spend three hours thinking about the same subject, the result would be somewhat artificial, whereas I've realized that my brain produces its own share of absurdity, so I just let it do its thing.
RELATIONSHIP TO THE STREET
In what way is the street a particular space for creation? In your work, it will allow the propagation of the phrase.
On the street, everyone sees you. By writing a book, you only reach a few people, but on the street, the factory worker, the student, or the CEO will be affected. That's why I find it a magical place, not elitist at all. Among the people who write to me to tell me they appreciate my work, there aren't only professors. I like the fact that I can speak to everyone, that I can reach everyone. I was sent a photograph of the healthcare workers' demonstration with a quote from my own words. «"Those whom we bleed dry revolt."» displayed on a sign, and I was thrilled. Often it's couples in love: they'll send each other some of my phrases, write to each other through me. I think it's wonderful to be able to exist, even just a little, within a couple who love each other.
What is your relationship with photography?
The photograph is just as important as the act of gluing. Although I'm not a photographer, I take great care with it to ensure a successful result, and I glue the images based on the picture I can then take. This is what I share with people, what will be visible to those who don't see the artwork. It's not simply about archiving.
Does the question of ephemerality, common in urban art, have meaning in your work? Are there any phrases you would no longer use?
I don't care if a piece I put up disappears, because it existed: it's not the result that matters, but the evening I went to paste it up, the people who were with me. I got annoyed once when someone tagged me even though there was a large blank space next to it. But unlike someone who spends a day painting and then pastes up the result of several hours of work, it doesn't take me the same amount of time, which obviously matters. As for the themes, there are no "obsolete" phrases, because I'm still in tune with love gone wrong, and I don't disown these personal pieces (although sometimes certain more political messages are no longer relevant outside of election periods). Even if I were to get married one day, it wouldn't stop me from putting up these phrases, which make people laugh and will have been true.
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