TEUTHIS

TEUTHIS – AN ENCYCLOPEDIA OF UNDERWATER SPECIES

October 2019 – 1693 words

COURSE

How did you become an artist?

I've always drawn, and from the age of sixteen I was doing graffiti, lettering, and characters. I had another pseudonym – Nawek – and was part of a collective in Le Havre, where we painted on vacant lots, bunkers, and highway pillars. I then studied oceanography at Paris 6, giving up graffiti. When I started working as a marine biologist on squid, I had time for myself again and was able to start drawing again, blending the spirit of naturalist illustration with the graphic style of my early lettering. I then turned to poster art, as this practice is faster and more readily accepted.

So, do you consider your first steps in the street to be through graffiti or collage?

There were really two distinct phases. The first was wild graffiti, then, starting in 2013, I began doing poster art and adopted the pseudonym Teuthis. I then moved into naturalist drawing, displayed in large format. I immediately embraced this aquatic world, which is the one that resonates with me most, being from Le Havre. I was drawing fish from the age of four. I fished a lot with friends and I was always at the Museum.

Did you paste your drawings up in the street immediately?

My friends from the L2A collective in Le Havre motivated me to switch to collage because it had become difficult for me to quickly create my highly detailed drawings with spray paint in the streets. Since I had access to a large printing machine, I did a test by pasting up a squid measuring fourteen meters by four meters in collaboration with Père Dedu, who had mastered this technique perfectly… We placed it on a warehouse in the city, and the next day the result was obvious; everyone was talking about it.

As a young artist, do you feel like you are part of a pre-existing artistic movement?

I feel it's more of a personal approach. When I talk with other artists, I get the impression that we each have our own signature style. Since I come from a graffiti background, I sometimes feel more affinity with the approach of graffiti artists who work on highways or ring roads: they're purists who really resonate with me. Unlike others, I don't play with the interaction with the urban environment, except for the catfish I created with Ardif, because it was important to me that the Seine appear in the photograph. Since the term "street art" is very broad, I would define myself primarily as an illustrator, and by extension, a poster artist.

I really enjoy collaborations because they allow me to break out of my daily routine and force me to step outside my comfort zone. This compels me to adapt and results in original creations. However, I would also like to collaborate with graffiti artists, as these projects could be very interesting.

AN ENCYCLOPEDIA OF UNDERWATER SPECIES

Your work is distinguished by an almost scientific rigor in its drawing.

This stems from my training, from spending a lot of time in old libraries. In science, there's a culture of precise drawing, aiming to get as close as possible to reality in order to better archive and document it. These are very detailed, very static sketches. Thus, I never do three-quarter views, but always side views, from the back, really trying to respect the conventions of naturalist drawing. I draw them in India ink, while also adding small dots that recall that they were often engravings in the past. As for colors, I use those that define the species. For the pea crab, for example, you can see wine-colored spots, as well as a light, slightly pinkish body. Starting from this dominant color, I do color tests and mix them. In this way, I create my own graphic formula.

Do you see these drawings as a classification of species?

I always start with a real animal, the idea being to explore biodiversity, which is a tremendous source of inspiration. I also sometimes draw objects, like diving suits or compasses. While I take a photograph of each piece, I don't replicate my collages, except for a few duplicates made between Le Havre and Paris.

I like to depict species that aren't often seen. When you walk around Paris, you always see cats, lions, and parrots. It's also great to draw a small shrimp, which only lives in a specific region, not only because it's very graphic, but also because it's more likely to surprise people. I often write the animal's scientific name in small print, which can make people aware that it really exists and pique their curiosity.

The breaks you incorporate give your drawing a more graphic dimension.

The broken surfaces lend a fragility, a somewhat mineral quality, reminiscent of the city of Le Havre, razed during the war and rebuilt in concrete. The landscapes there are essentially composed of pebbles, flint, dikes, and bunkers: it's a brutal architecture. I must have a subconscious love for these shades of gray, which is why my drawings often take on slightly muted tones, with pastel and desaturated hues.

Are you planning these breaks or are they the subject of a second step?

I always start with a model, for example, an old engraving. I try to find the perfect shape in pencil, then see where I could place these lines, never drawing parallels. Then I begin to break them down. They thus come later and allow me to not simply represent an animal, but to bring a graphic exploration that goes beyond mere observational drawing. They allow me to reclaim the forms of Nature, which are perfect but to which we, as humans, want to add something.

How do you see your work evolving?

I think I will always retain this aquatic signature inherent in my work. Teuthis It means squid, and the sea teems with invisible or forgotten animals. When you walk along the Seine, you don't realize the presence of catfish and pike. I take them out of the water and put them in the street. This silent world has always fascinated me. Yet it's possible that at some point I might want to distance myself from it in one way or another, particularly by increasingly breaking down my drawings, without them becoming abstract.

COLLAGE AND THE STREET

Why did you choose collage?

In graffiti, I used to create very simple lettering using two or three colors, aiming to complete a five-meter-long piece in ten minutes. The precision work I do today makes haphazard graffiti on a wall impossible. In Le Havre, since the architecture is a UNESCO World Heritage site, the anti-graffiti squad is extremely effective. Being featured on posters has also allowed me access to walls I would never have dared to attack otherwise. Since it's not really property damage, it helps avoid prosecution. Pasting up my work has allowed me to create pieces several meters long right in the city center. I've even had the police in Paris ask me what I was doing before wishing me a good evening.

Collage is a particularly ephemeral technique.

It's a drawback, but one that reflects the state of species and biodiversity today: the posters fray and disintegrate. It also proves that the wall is alive: once the collage is gone, we move on to something else. I never paste it twice on the same wall, so I always get a unique image.

How do you choose where to stick them? 

I like highly visible spots, and if possible, places that have never been used before. In Le Havre, I'm always thrilled to be the first one there, whereas in Paris that's nearly impossible. I put up unique pieces because people are more satisfied when they find the design and take a picture of it. It's also a way to force myself to keep things fresh. It's easy to rest on your laurels with posters, to create one beautiful piece and replicate it twenty times. I force myself not to do that: I put one up, photograph it, and archive it.

What is your relationship with photography?

Photography plays an integral role in the work process. I take the time to choose the angle, and getting a good image is a bit like a trophy. I always take a first shot as soon as the poster is pasted up, so I have a backup photo if it disappears overnight. It's actually happened to me twice that I've come back and found nothing. That's also why I don't recreate the same rooms twice: it would be too time-consuming if I had to. I then organize all my photographs so I can archive them and one day make a book listing the date, geographical coordinates, and species name.

What does the street offer you as a space for creation?

Because my drawing is so meticulous, I spend a lot of time hunched over my paper. I even sometimes use a binocular magnifying glass for the hairs or the tiniest dots. It's interesting to have this second phase, which is completely different from working on a very large scale in the street, with a much more forceful and accessible approach. The gestures are more spontaneous than in my initial drawing. It also provides an adrenaline rush, and the slightly narcissistic pleasure of returning the next day to the work I'd done the night before. It's exhilarating to take over a wall with friends; it's a feeling of pure freedom. I don't think I could ever separate myself from it. Nevertheless, the street isn't a necessity for my drawings.

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