{"id":114,"date":"2021-10-01T23:09:00","date_gmt":"2021-10-01T23:09:00","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/qgdesartistes.fr\/?p=114"},"modified":"2026-06-29T17:08:09","modified_gmt":"2026-06-29T17:08:09","slug":"lor-k","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/qgdesartistes.fr\/en\/lor-k\/","title":{"rendered":"Lor-K"},"content":{"rendered":"

THE MOVING ARCHITECTURE OF ABANDONED WASTE<\/strong><\/p>\n\n\n\n

\n\n\n\n

COURSE<\/strong><\/p>\n\n\n\n

How did you become an artist? When did you start out busking?<\/strong><\/p>\n\n\n\n

My first encounters with art happened on my way to school, through words written in giant letters on the walls. I wondered what tools were used to create such large lines: among the school's brushes and markers, none seemed capable of producing that kind of lettering. Around the age of twelve, while rummaging through my electromechanical technician father's toolbox, I discovered the spray paint cans he used for finishing touches in elevator interiors. That's when I began to understand the techniques used by graffiti artists. During my adolescence, I amused myself by creating my own tag, copying everything I saw outside\u2014tags, graffiti, stencils, collages\u2014without ever truly developing my style or finding my own voice. At the same time, I sometimes collected unwanted items to sell at flea markets with my mother. The turning point came later, when I started university. For the first time, at twenty-three, I visited a contemporary art gallery. It was a revelation: using waste to work with it outdoors as such, in its posture of abandonment, speaks of us, of our societies; they are no longer simple supports, but rather a material carrying meaning.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Where does your perspective on the object and its transformation come from?<\/strong><\/p>\n\n\n\n

Even though I always wanted to study art, it wasn't the path I initially followed. I started in business, from vocational training to advanced vocational diplomas. Poorly guided, it was a period during which I felt rejected by the system. Vocational programs, with their internships, are fields where learning is limited and compartmentalized. Looking back, I realize now that those years have influenced all my current projects, which are constantly connected to our consumer society.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

BULKY ITEMS, A MATERIAL FOR CREATION<\/strong><\/p>\n\n\n\n

Today your job is precisely to change the way people look at objects.<\/strong><\/p>\n\n\n\n

The street inspires me; each project depends on what I find outside. The mattresses in Eat come from a time when I saw them everywhere. Each time, it stems from an observation, and that's what interests me: the repetition of an object, a material, a form. These visions of discarded waste in the street are ultimately symbolic for all city dwellers around the world. I'm simply amplifying their meaning. It's a way of reminding us that a table is first and foremost a plank of wood, a mattress a block of foam, a window a pane of glass\u2026<\/p>\n\n\n\n

You're talking about putting the narrative dimension back at the center of the work.<\/strong><\/p>\n\n\n\n

Given the dominant conceptual aspect of contemporary art, it's understandable that some viewers might feel lost. A highly intellectualized work can sometimes be difficult to connect to one's own codes, social life, or daily routine, thus complicating interpretation. Using everyday objects, directly outdoors, demystifies the artistic act and allows people to identify with it, appropriating the sculpture even before grasping its meaning. A bleeding sofa on the sidewalk\u2014a narrative unfolds.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Unlike wall intervention, your practice is not illegal. By working with bulky items on the sidewalk, you are exploring a lawless zone.<\/strong><\/p>\n\n\n\n

While writing my thesis, I became fully aware that in urban spaces, everything is property. Everything around us belongs to someone. But bulky waste, once on the sidewalk, is mysteriously freed from this ownership: I perceive it as a redundant element of our streets, a shifting and recurring architecture. This creates a loophole, a loophole that allows us to circumvent issues of illegality and censorship. Using waste fosters a peaceful relationship with people, a relationship rarely found when we attack walls.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

AN URBAN APPROACH<\/strong><\/p>\n\n\n\n

Your projects can be built according to two dynamics: between radical transformation and minimalist gestures.<\/strong><\/p>\n\n\n\n

By writing "Welcome" in large white letters on a pile of trash, it's the layering of elements that gives new meaning to the existing scene. The transformation occurs without any manipulation of the discarded items, unlike in Eat Me where the initial object is ultimately unrecognizable. In any case, I don't consider my outdoor sculptures to be works of art. Leaving them in the street without any indication, without a label, without anything saying "Art," allows for a certain desacralization. In my opinion, this is what makes street art so accessible. For me, they are, above all, artistic experiments.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

You are conducting an important reflection on the medium, expressing a certain weariness with the usual techniques used in urban spaces.<\/strong><\/p>\n\n\n\n

With each project, I need to surprise myself. When I have an idea, I check if someone has already worked on it, and if so, I research the current state of their work. The goal isn't to reproduce what already exists, but to advance Art and History by offering visions that resonate with our times. The techniques, tools, and mediums at our disposal influence our creativity, and it seems essential to embrace them to allow the visual arts to evolve. A strong contextual foundation is, in my opinion, what makes a work timeless.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Following this idea, your work would naturally stem from an era of overconsumption. Does such a strong grounding in the present allow for timelessness?<\/strong><\/p>\n\n\n\n

I believe that being connected to the present, to both the technologies and social issues of our time, allows for timelessness. When a work reflects a generation, it often becomes a marker of a particular moment. I find it difficult to define myself as a politically engaged artist. I am sensitive to the capitalism of our societies and drawn to the commercial aspect of our urban landscapes. I see my work as a result of our consumer society, with the desire to defuse tension by raising questions, without inducing guilt. Through these lifestyles common to many city dwellers, I seek to evoke potential: if a filthy mattress can become a sculpture, perhaps it could then become something else entirely.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

What role does wandering play in your work?<\/strong><\/p>\n\n\n\n

Wandering allows for creation. When I feel the urge to create, I set off on my scooter in search of coveted waste. My ideas come from these moments of observing the territory as I roam the urban space.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

CREATE IN A PUBLIC SPACE<\/strong><\/p>\n\n\n\n

Urban creation is often associated with speed. However, your timeframe for action is particularly long.<\/strong><\/p>\n\n\n\n

I would say rather that my time spent working isn't dependent on the adrenaline rush of urgency. My primary constraint is nightfall: if I have to come back the next day, there's little chance my sculpture will still be there. I sit on the sidewalk all day, creating a kind of makeshift studio where people can come and pat me on the shoulder and chat. It's this social interaction with the street that interests me.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Are interactions with the public an essential component of your work?<\/strong><\/p>\n\n\n\n

On a human level, that is to say, socially, it's what connects me to others. I'm rather solitary in my personal life. By talking with everyone I meet, art allows me to stay connected to the world. I need these interactions to nourish and build my practice from one research project to the next.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

By forcing yourself to finish your creation before nightfall for fear that it might disappear, you also emphasize the extreme ephemerality of your practice.<\/strong><\/p>\n\n\n\n

There are areas in Paris where everything is mixed together: creations, commissions, advertisements. They are strange jumbles where artists find themselves in the same position as brands, creating logos and hammering them home. Working with discarded materials to create sculptures allows one to detach oneself from notions of location and visibility. The places where I install my work are not chosen for their popularity (or inaccessibility); it is the waste itself that determines their locations. Detached from the wall, the creation becomes mobile, making its lifespan much more fragile and unpredictable.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

You break down your actions according to a very detailed creation process.<\/strong><\/p>\n\n\n\n

With each project, the same process is repeated: observation, preparation, intervention, transcription, exhibition. For me, a project is finished when I have final pieces to share; without them, the project ultimately has no existence. The systematic archiving applied to all my urban interventions is what allows my art to exist. In reality, most people who are familiar with my work have never seen my sculptures outdoors. For me, this proves that there is no need to preserve or own the sculptures to understand my work.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

THE IMAGE IN THE CENTER<\/strong><\/p>\n\n\n\n

From sculpture to photography: The fact that the majority of people have not seen your work in the street highlights the importance of the image.<\/strong><\/p>\n\n\n\n

For me, the street and the exhibition are deeply intertwined. If the possibility of drawing on archives didn't exist, would I have developed this street art practice? Without my urban practice, what would I have to exhibit? Photographs, prints, and videos are the results of these open-air experiments. Through images, the sculptures created outdoors become the subject of my permanent works.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Isn't this search for permanence paradoxical in relation to the hyper-ephemeral described earlier?<\/strong><\/p>\n\n\n\n

I am convinced that without this digital ability to archive my creations, I would never have made ephemeral sculptures. I truly realized this when I looked back at photos of myself as a child with a camera around my neck. It's the only tool I systematically use with me on every project. Ultimately, the image is what I exhibit and what allows people to understand my work. I feel that without these notions of archiving, whatever form they may take, art wouldn't exist. When an artist creates a visual composition in the street and leaves it there, they are no longer in control of its future. The free and public display of their creation generates unprecedented possibilities for appropriation, which, in my opinion, become new acts of creation.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

What to think of image hunters?<\/strong><\/p>\n\n\n\n

Of course, I wouldn't want anyone to make money off my sculptures, but I find the possibility of these new creative acts beautiful. In my opinion, it's this freedom of action in the face of creation that makes street art so rich. Urban art sparks vocations, and people then develop their own point of view by creating themselves. It reminds me of Berlin, where Objecticide No. 25 remained on the sidewalk for almost a week. A large, dripping red tag had appeared on one side, with a can of Coca-Cola and a red lighter placed on top. It was amazing to see how, in just a few days, the scene had evolved.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

In what way is the street a unique space for creation?<\/strong><\/p>\n\n\n\n

Presenting visual art directly in the real world transforms our relationship with art. For me, the defining characteristic of urban art is its freedom: the ability to intervene outdoors, in full view of everyone, without being subject to commissions or censorship. Left in the street, art is then displayed without warning. This desacralization of the artwork allows for rich interpretations and a strong sense of public engagement.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

A REFLECTION THAT IS INSCRIBED IN SPACE AND TIME<\/strong><\/p>\n\n\n\n

Do you consider your series to be open or bounded in time?<\/strong><\/p>\n\n\n\n

I can work on several series simultaneously, but they all come to an end. Each project represents a specific moment in my life and artistic explorations. For example, in 2012 with *Objeticide*, I depicted the death of objects during a rather dark and particular period in my life. For nine months, I created thirty interventions that led me to a new personal stage: liberation. Having found peace from my sorrows, I then moved on to *Divinit\u00e9 urbaine*, connected to clouds and the gentleness of a certain imagery. Time and perspective have allowed me to become aware of the close link between my life and my art. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

The same theme can also evolve depending on the society in which a project is created. Would intervening on waste in Asia or in America tell the same story?<\/strong><\/p>\n\n\n\n

It was in 2013, with the Urban Divinity project, that the question of territory began to emerge significantly in my research. At that time, I undertook a tour of France to create a sculpture in the capital of each of our 22 regions. This was a rich and interesting first encounter with unfamiliar landscapes. From 2014 onward, with the In This World project, the desire to travel the globe arose. Practicing my artistic approach in other countries raises issues specific to each context in which I work. My understanding of waste, established thus far, would certainly take on a different meaning from one continent to another.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Do you consider urban art to be an artistic movement? If so, do you consider yourself part of it?<\/strong><\/p>\n\n\n\n

Yes, urban art is an artistic movement. I see it as a continuum blending street art and contemporary art. There's a reflection on the object, its exhibition, and its archiving, dependent on a form of urban activism. This blend gives rise to a new urban art that is taking shape over time, and of which I believe I am a part. I like that each project is a challenge, that it can raise new issues; otherwise, it would have no interest for the history of art. The challenge is to find spaces to create one's own unique voice, while maintaining a certain continuity with what already exists.<\/p>","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

L\u2019ARCHITECTURE MOUVANTE DU D\u00c9CHET ABANDONN\u00c9 PARCOURS Comment es-tu devenue artiste ? Quand as-tu commenc\u00e9 dans la rue ? Mes premi\u00e8res rencontres artistiques se sont faites sur le chemin de l\u2019\u00e9cole, \u00e0 travers des mots \u00e9crits en g\u00e9ant sur les murs. Je me demandais quels outils \u00e9taient utilis\u00e9s pour tracer des traits aussi gros : parmi […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[1],"tags":[28,7,33,39],"class_list":["post-114","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-uncategorized","tag-ephemere","tag-france","tag-in-situ","tag-volume"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/qgdesartistes.fr\/en\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/114","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/qgdesartistes.fr\/en\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/qgdesartistes.fr\/en\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/qgdesartistes.fr\/en\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/qgdesartistes.fr\/en\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=114"}],"version-history":[{"count":2,"href":"https:\/\/qgdesartistes.fr\/en\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/114\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":294,"href":"https:\/\/qgdesartistes.fr\/en\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/114\/revisions\/294"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/qgdesartistes.fr\/en\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=114"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/qgdesartistes.fr\/en\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=114"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/qgdesartistes.fr\/en\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=114"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}