RETRO
RETRO – WHEN URBAN ART BECOMES A LEGEND OF THE CENTURIES
April 2019 – 3348 words
COURSE
It all started with a mural seen in the mid-80s. A vague memory that leaves a deep impression.
I think it must have been in 1986. This mural was in Fontenay and depicted countries with their names, flags, and lots of colors. I must have been twelve years old, and I was blown away by these drawings: in the age of comics and cartoons, it was fascinating to discover these paintings, which challenged and questioned the who and the why. For a bored kid, it's also about seeing older kids drawing on the walls. Then, like all the guys of my generation, I went through the same experience, namely reading... Spraycan Art And Subway Art, which are truly the benchmarks.
So you started out with graffiti, with a tag – Toons. Did you always want to be an extra?
Initially, I wanted to work in animation. So I started doing graffiti around the age of seventeen or eighteen, before wanting to go to Gobelins. I took the entrance exam twice but wasn't good enough. Since I was drawing cartoons, Toons This naturally became my signature. I then stopped painting in the street around 1996, before resuming in 2011. Throughout this period, I had a studio where I continued to work in a more abstract way with volume, wood, and paint, while pursuing ongoing research into materials and textures. I am currently returning to this desire for abstraction, even though I still maintain, in the background, the wish to show the passage of time and to explore wear and tear.
RETROPOLIS
How did the Retropolis project begin?
When I started again in 2012, I went with a retro-graffiti concept rather than a signature, in parallel with retrofuturism. The idea was to explore the «"What if"», As is often seen in film. Having worked for fifteen years in a web agency, I absorbed a wide variety of graphic styles, as well as typography, fashion photography, and diverse knowledge that I wanted to convey. Retro thus refers to what came before. A historical foundation serving as a bridge between worlds separated by time and space. I've been working on this for a few years now, and I feel like it's an endless avenue.
Retropolis is an imaginary city with several districts, such as Ortopark and Vootham. Some murals on Joseph Python Street evoke the atmosphere of Samurai Champloo, blending hip-hop with more traditional forms.
I'm heavily influenced by comics and I always want to tell a story, hence the creation of Retropolis and its imaginary characters. Each district allows for a deeper exploration of the convergence of particular artistic styles. The first was a fairground, characterized by an American style reminiscent of the 1950s, with its rickety roller coasters and big tops. Russian showmen supposedly settled there and allowed the city to grow, incorporating architectural elements such as bulbous roofs, all blended into this amusement park setting.
If we assume that everything is interchangeable, we might, for example, want to mix very religious elements with Amsterdam's Red Light District to highlight a certain contrast. However, I tried to find something more subtle to avoid these pitfalls. My second district is architecturally inspired by the 1930s: it's Art Deco with bold lines reminiscent of Streamline Moderne, and features an architect I adore—Hugh Ferriss—who is partly responsible for the buildings found in Gotham City and Metropolis. I've added elements of Voodoo culture, very colorful, composed of many symbols and a system of gods and demigods, because this mythology is very vast.
Retropolis also features the idea of an upper city and a lower city, which also marks layers between different eras.
This idea, which is found in particular in Metropolis It has been used in countless science fiction films. But the caste system it introduces still exists today when you observe the struggle between the elite and the people. We are content with TV series and entertainment, and only occasionally do we protest to get a few crumbs. Even as an artist, I'm constantly struggling, without any recognition. I'm still offered work with no pay other than the cost of the paint. While I do sometimes complete projects for free—urban art has a social dimension—people need to stop thinking that an artist lives on love and fresh air alone.
On what surfaces can this city expand?
I think Retropolis will remain connected to the street. The paintings I create now tend towards something else, a form of abstraction. However, when responding to calls for tenders, it's essential to maintain the street dimension, incorporating elements of the urban context, using color, in a style akin to advertising. I always come back to working with this old but patinated aspect, like that elephant on Rue de Belleville that could be mistaken for a fake lemonade ad. The ultimate goal would be to eventually bring this brand to life. It would really amuse me to transpose these imaginary elements into the real world.
CONSTANT RESEARCH
How is your studio work structured?
In my studio, my research focuses primarily on the figure of the artist and the sacrifices we are willing to make to succeed. Are we prepared to set aside our convictions? What constitutes success: money, recognition, being an example for other artists? The pact with the devil is, in my opinion, an interesting theme, present in literature for a very long time, notably through the myth of Faust. It's an idea that has since developed further, particularly in other works. Magic skin, The Master and Margarita Or The monk. I had worked on three essential literary examples: Faust, Dorian Gray, and Macbeth, their representation, and this embodiment of the pact. To be young, a king, or a scholar, and to agree to give everything to further extend one's youth, power, or knowledge. On an artistic level, I think many of us ask ourselves this question, wondering how far we can go. With these references, I'm sometimes afraid of seeming pretentious, but having a rather low level of formal education, I've had to compensate by educating myself for the past twenty-five years. Perhaps I tend to want to include a few too many references, when all I want is to convey something—a question, an emotion, or at least a somewhat thoughtful approach to the subjects I address.
Your style, distinguished by the use of color and line, is very recognizable.
Without false modesty, what I do always seems small and unimpressive to me. Indeed, I don't refer to what I see around me, except for what has been done before. I don't aim for recognition or visibility, but to be part of this large family of artists, without borders or time constraints. Everything is about transmission, and I rely on what others have done before me to try, in turn, to contribute my own stone to this edifice: if others can be influenced by it, I will have accomplished something truly important. This is what motivates me and pushes me to tell myself that I am still far from having produced a truly significant body of work.
Blue plays a very important role in your work. Are you interested in the place of this color in the history of art?
When I first started working with acrylics, a friend was selling off some clearance stock, including a hideous apple green, which I mixed with turquoise dye. I then started painting with that color, which people mistakenly took for my signature, when in reality it was just because it was all I had! I've had other colors since, but it's true that these pigments provide excellent coverage and are ideal for street art.
I refuse to work with only one color, as that would be too restrictive and impossible to escape. Thus, in my last exhibition, there was no blue. In art history, blue evokes Klein, but historically, it's also, in a way, a symbol of royalty. Pigments cost more than gold; only the wealthiest people could afford them. I'm more interested in working with unexpected colors and blending them. There are so many talented artists who work with color that it can seem difficult to reinvent oneself, so I try to combine hues to create moods and worlds, allowing me to return to a pop style—in the sense of popular.
Each new creation is the result of research: how do you understand your evolution?
Thanks to photography, I can see what I was producing two and a half years ago, and I'm satisfied if I see that I've progressed. But the search is ongoing, and I need to create constantly, otherwise I get depressed. There are times when I want to give up because I'm struggling, nothing is working, I feel like I'm regressing, but I always keep going. It took me months to develop my technique to try and offer something different, something that will allow me to take my street art to the next level. Working in the studio is also very important, because it allows me to focus on color combinations, light, and composition.
Unlike many urban artists, you don't work with the repetition of a motif but produce something new each time.
I don't like to limit myself to a single technique, and the idea of repeating a motif for twenty years is a bit disheartening. Is that a strength or a weakness? I admire those who manage to find a gimmick and then develop it with their own unique touch. For now, I don't quite have that knack because I want to try lots of different things. It's hard not to lose yourself when you want to go in all directions. Am I an artist? I don't define myself that way; I'm just a guy who enjoys drawing and painting. I recently saw the Vasarely exhibition at the Centre Pompidou, and what's really interesting is that you can see his journey and his evolution, and thus understand his sophisticated and comprehensive approach, even if I'm sometimes wary of contemporary art where the concept takes precedence over representation. However, it's extremely difficult to find a new graphic style. Everything is just a rehash of what's been done before, in a more or less improved form. I am also part of it and in this respect cannot criticize what others do.
What is your goal as an artist?
I'd like to find my own path, with a timeless style that can't be frozen in time. Vasarely's work, for example, is marked by a specific period and moment. I'm going to look at what's around me to stay informed about current trends and draw inspiration from what's been done before, but within the last 150 years. I love the Vienna Secession and the Impressionists, whose styles I find timeless. When you look at a work by Klimt, it remains ultra-modern in its construction, its dynamism, its technique, its illustration, its painting.
AN ANCHORAGE IN THE CITY
What is your relationship to the street?
Even though many consider me a street artist, I still believe I'm doing graffiti, in the sense that the places where I paint are illegal. However, it's easier to intervene now compared to the time when people would call the police directly, even if I didn't have a permit. I want to maintain this mindset: to come and paint where it shouldn't be. This illegality, whether found in a restroom, on a street, or in a vacant lot, is a testament to someone, to what they wanted to tell us. I, an ordinary citizen, see blank, gray walls that I come to take over. I want to emphasize this point: I'm not going to cover up existing graffiti. What exasperates me is all those people who come and paint over you because the presence of your painting suddenly creates a "street art spot," justifying collaborations. There are walls everywhere, and I don't see the logic in crowding into the same place.
Your works are often placed in Belleville. Why is it important for you to have this territorial connection?
It's easy. I've returned to the 20the district of Paris where I lived in the early 2000s. I started painting by chance in a small street, wanting to recapture the feeling I had with my friends in the mid-90s. I began on fences, especially when I started again in 2012 with TRBDSGN, who had already been painting in the street for quite a few years. Then in the 20the, with a brush, which is a tool that people don't associate with degradation. I first used it indoors, to avoid poisoning myself, and I quickly realized that it allowed me to achieve a finish I'd long been trying to get with spray paint. In the 20the In this district, the policy is very open regarding urban art, thanks in particular to Art Azoï, which has long worked to make people understand this approach. Nevertheless, there is always a certain urgency, a time constraint, and a sometimes stressful environment, but these define the context. If you want to paint without taking risks, don't go out into the street.
What kind of interaction do you have with passers-by?
My approach is to be in the street, painting and talking with people, because there's a real social dimension to urban art. Opinions vary from neighborhood to neighborhood; in some parts of the 11th arrondissement, for example.e In neighborhoods covered in graffiti, people are annoyed, while I've also had some leave thanking me. It's interesting to see that this art form appeals to all generations: from kids who don't necessarily understand it but appreciate the color, to delighted grandmothers, to those who don't speak French very well, or to tourists. It's not much, but it creates a connection.
What is your perspective on the ephemeral nature of urban art?
I have a bit of an old-fashioned side that comes from graffiti, and it's tied to respect. I've always struggled to understand how someone can just put their tag/collage/stencil/poster over someone else's work and then get offended when it's done the other way around. But you're right, this form of expression is inherently ephemeral, so we have to accept that once a painting is done in the street, it no longer belongs to the person who created it. It's accessible to everyone, for better or for worse. That's also what allows this field to progress so quickly, because everything disappears so fast, and you have to constantly reinvent yourself. We're completely breaking away from the academic codes of classical art and studio work, which makes this form of expression accessible to anyone.
Do you feel like you are contributing to writing the history of the city?
I would like that to be the case, but I'm still far from it, and to be more precise, it's not necessarily about leaving one's mark, but rather about feeling that one can be part of a kind of "extended family" across time. There are important players, like the Itinerrance gallery in the 13th arrondissement.e district and especially Art Azoï in the 20the.
ON URBAN ART
What do you think is the difference between urban art and contemporary art?
The direct feedback from the public marks a shift. Compared to contemporary art, it's interesting to see how an artistic environment reserved for an elite and rather inaccessible suddenly becomes popular and appropriated by the people. Everyone becomes a judge, and the artists most followed thanks to the street are not so because they attended art school or received classical training, but because they appealed to the public. It's a genuine choice made in a more democratic way. For now, contemporary art and its major players still snub this movement, but more and more are taking the plunge, until perhaps we all manage this transition and see it as a major new movement.
What role does photography play in your life?
I take photos to share mainly on Instagram. It gives me a history, allows me to add dates. I don't have any pictures of what I did before; a friend keeps them. In fact, I don't see what I do—whether it's a canvas or a wall—as an end in itself; for me, it's continuous practice. The fact that I enjoy it has to remain the main motivation. I have a two-and-a-half-year-old daughter, and she's amused to see an elephant painted by her father when she goes to daycare. I also have an eleven-year-old son who's less interested, but if one day he wanted to paint, I'd be delighted. It's gratifying to sometimes hear people say «"My daughter loves what you do."», because then we know that we were able to make someone happy for a few seconds.
What is your perspective on street art today?
There's no other word than Street Art to define this movement, but the problem is that it's become a caricature of people who have nothing in common: moreover, it's now very easy to create a portrait of a woman who's slightly tilting her head back, spray-paint a lot of colors, and call it Street Art. (Banksy's film) Break down the wall! This aspect is denounced. A young person starting out today ends up on the street because it seems accessible and appealing. The positive side is that there's no longer a need to go through Fine Arts or Decorative Arts, but some forget that giving oneself the means to produce something is a crucial step in itself.
What will allow an urban artist to stand out?
Reaching discerning gallery owners requires a highly professional approach, and one quickly realizes that most street artists aren't suited to operating at that level. Many of those who succeed aren't particularly talented visually, but they know how to manage their public image and are veritable production machines. It's necessary to find a balance with this approach, which sometimes prioritizes productivity over creativity. By offering their input on the theme or colors, the gallery owner can influence the artistic direction, which, if done intelligently, can lead to excellent results.
Finally, it is difficult to theorize this movement.
It is indefinable and fluid, constantly evolving since the 1970s. Many people struggle to define it using new words like Pressureism ; Yet even the pioneers can't afford to be complacent when you realize how much everything has changed in just a few years. There are also countless sub-levels among stencil artists, sticker artists, mosaicists, and muralists… I don't know what the future holds for street art, whether it will be a movement that, like Impressionism, didn't last very long despite being widely recognized. It comes back to the desire to be part of a movement because it gives meaning to one's life, rather than a motivation driven by a passing fad.
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