{"id":162,"date":"2016-03-19T00:09:00","date_gmt":"2016-03-19T00:09:00","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/qgdesartistes.fr\/?p=162"},"modified":"2026-06-18T00:09:29","modified_gmt":"2026-06-18T00:09:29","slug":"alain-declercq","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/qgdesartistes.fr\/en\/alain-declercq\/","title":{"rendered":"ALAIN DECLERCQ"},"content":{"rendered":"

Meeting with Alain Declercq<\/strong><\/p>\n\n\n\n

Paris, March 19, 2016<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n

First steps<\/strong><\/p>\n\n\n\n

First of all, could you tell us about your background and what drew you to art?<\/strong><\/p>\n\n\n\n

I studied Applied Arts, but not Fine Arts. I actually started with a two-year technical degree in graphic design at Olivier de Serres, back when computers didn't exist. So I studied graphic design the old-fashioned way, drawing everything by hand. When these new technologies first appeared, we didn't really believe in them, because we couldn't do anything with them. On the first Macs, the internal hard drive was only 1.5 megabytes, everything was displayed in black and white, and working with video or photos was out of the question. Nevertheless, I quickly became interested in them once I understood their potential\u2026<\/p>\n\n\n\n

As a graphic design student, I was actually studying both pure graphic design and advertising. I didn't like the advertising side of things, which I often dealt with by taking photos to the lab: I spent days and nights there\u2026 I then wanted to specialize in photography and I went to the \u00c9cole des Arts D\u00e9coratifs.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

However, in all these schools, I had a hidden art project without any real interlocutors because there were no artists among the teachers: they were graphic designers, advertising professionals, photographers, reporters\u2026 I had no conversations about my art, and at the beginning of my studies, I didn't even know that Fine Arts schools existed! In fact, I was always out of step with my studies, but today I appreciate the multitude of tools I'm able to use. To try to showcase my art, after graduating from the \u00c9cole des Arts D\u00e9coratifs, I enrolled in the postgraduate program at the \u00c9cole des Beaux-Arts in Nantes.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

At the time, I was working with a group with whom I created an artists' website in 1998, as well as an interactive CD-ROM. We were really wondering if digital art was going to become the future of art, and the recruiters in Nantes probably thought they shouldn't miss out on someone who already mastered these tools. But as soon as I arrived there, I stopped doing interactive work!<\/p>\n\n\n\n

We had an intermediate status between student and artist. It was fantastic to be able to enjoy the benefits of student status while also having a studio, a catalogue, and an exhibition! For a year, I was able to completely dedicate myself to my artistic work. I was immediately integrated into the art world, and it was a world I was discovering for the first time.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Were the police, the state, and violence your main subjects of study from the beginning?<\/strong><\/p>\n\n\n\n

There wasn't a single triggering event. Politics, resistance, and war were always topics of conversation in my family. My grandfather, who escaped several times, ended up in a concentration camp in Ukraine, and my grandmother was imprisoned for resistance activities. I don't come from a family where people talk a lot, especially not about personal matters, but rather about politics and taking a stand. I come from a background that is both working-class and academic. It's a background that is attentive to what's happening in the world, even if these aren't people who are politically active. Knowing this, my first play is practically a manifesto.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Antihero<\/em> (1996) came at a time when I was interested in very committed artists like Chris Burden or Marina Abramovic. They defended a position of the committed and heroic artist, asserting a gesture that was both political and artistic. I shared these interests, but I felt that it wasn't my territory, my position being much more withdrawn. I preferred the role of observer, working around ambiguity and raising questions. This may seem paradoxical, especially in light of other works, particularly the most well-known one in which I am in the foreground!B 52<\/em>, (2003) Thus, Antihero<\/em> It showed me well as a heroic artist, but with two left hands! I presented myself as an artist while revealing my hesitations.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

In your work you make extensive use of hidden cameras. This technique is both an aesthetic choice and a sign of political commitment. Indeed, it allows you to photograph the forbidden. Why do you make this choice?<\/strong><\/p>\n\n\n\n

To the aesthetic and the political, I would add the fictional potential. A poor-quality image, especially one that is jerky and half-hidden, becomes suspect. This potential interests me greatly, because I only produce fiction. I sometimes work like a journalist or an intelligence agent, but in reality, what I construct is fictional. The last film I shot is called Headquarters<\/em> (2016), I made it during a month-long residency in the far north of South Korea, at the foot of the DMZ (the border with North Korea). It's a militarized zone, under constant tension, with a particularly dense atmosphere. I managed to penetrate the area under military control, which is theoretically only accessible to residents or military personnel. I filmed in a number of forbidden locations, using a hidden camera, such as bunkers and trenches. Yet, at the end, I twist this narrative by filming in a game room packed with soldiers, which is then mistaken for a military control room. It's the visual juxtaposition of these spaces that creates the fiction.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

For the series Hidden (camera obscura)<\/em> (2008) in which I photographed all the places in New York where photography was prohibited; I was forced to make my own tool. It's a camera obscura <\/em>I make a hole in a small plastic cylinder and, by placing a round negative at the bottom, I create a camera. The exposure times, however, are very long, lasting 20 to 30 minutes, resulting in somewhat blurry, mediocre-quality images. Nevertheless, they give an indication of the difficulty of capturing the image. The artistic choice must contribute to the subject matter. There are plenty of places where I could have easily gone with a regular camera. For example, it's strictly forbidden to photograph the tunnels and bridges of Manhattan: millions of people do it every year, so it makes no sense! But this prohibition isn't neutral, because if someone wants to harass you, they can. My camera sometimes reinforced the absurdity of this law because, while I used it discreetly in front of a prison, in front of the Brooklyn Bridge people wondered what I was doing. These experiments interest me and allow me to question the limits of the law.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Doesn't this highlight the way security laws challenge freedom of expression?<\/strong><\/p>\n\n\n\n

I don't deny the political aspect of my work, and I'm the first to complain when exhibitions are censored, but on the other hand, museums, galleries, and art centers are places of greater freedom. I've been able to show things in museums that would have been banned elsewhere!<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I had already done a residency in South Korea five years ago, during which I photographed one of the tunnels built by North Korea to invade the South. It's important to remember the paradoxical nature of this border: simultaneously closed to the public and a commercial hub. The South Koreans extended the tunnel in question so they could open it to visitors and do business! Mines regularly explode, but sometimes the blasts come from a fairground attraction located next to the border; visitors can also observe the North Koreans through binoculars\u2026<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The photo of the tunnel is therefore forbidden, but I was able to exhibit it. Gallery owners and museum directors can have the courage to present risky or forbidden works: this is also the case with the police car, the Citro\u00ebn Evasion (Make Up<\/em>, (2002). I've often been stopped for taking pictures of police officers, but it makes no sense. Every day when you open the newspaper, you see riot police. I like to grapple with these contradictions and don't want to succumb to paranoia about a security state: if I have problems with the police, it's because they're my field of research, and I shouldn't be surprised when people ask me for explanations. The raid by the anti-terrorist brigade was huge, but it didn't surprise me all that much either. While I can express my opinions on how the authorities repress or cover things up, I don't want to draw general conclusions about totalitarian states from my own experience.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

To return to the boundary between reality and fiction, the photographs you take could have documentary value. What determines the fictional aspect of the image? For example, in the video that parodies the July 14th parade (<\/strong>State of siege<\/em><\/strong>, 2001) which shows that an image shot in a certain way is no longer an element of information but is transformed to become propaganda.<\/strong><\/p>\n\n\n\n

For State of Siege<\/em> I filmed for several years on the night and morning of July 14th. I only show the army in the street, but this film is a decoy. I could have filmed the soldiers very closely because they were on parade, but I preferred to film as if it were a defensive zone, running or hiding. I also use some chaotic effects, zooms\u2026 The film was initially intended for a website. The ambiguity of the internet was still in its infancy then, and I wondered if people would really believe in a state of siege in Paris. Can the simple choice of aesthetics influence how a film is perceived? Am I in danger in the eyes of the viewer because I use a hidden camera? State of siege<\/em> shows that the construction of the image, or the act of hiding, transforms Paris into a war zone; it is a total manipulation.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I am fascinated, for example, by The War of Worlds<\/em> narrated by Orson Welles on American radio or by Operation Moon<\/em> William Karel's documentary denies the American moon landing. The film is very well constructed; it's a manipulation that becomes utterly absurd. At one point, the voice-over recounts that a sound engineer was found dead in his bath, while on screen, a child in Africa throws a dog into a river\u2026! Nevertheless, by the end of the screening, most people believe that the Americans never went to the moon\u2026!<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Mike<\/strong><\/p>\n\n\n\n

Why is so much research focused on the daily lives of law enforcement?<\/strong><\/p>\n\n\n\n

The first time I worked on a film about law enforcement was in 1996, on a film that no longer exists. It was very long, two and a half hours, and was shot on VHS. It was around this time that the Vigipirate security plan was implemented, and soldiers\u2014actually heavily armed teenagers\u2014appeared on the streets of Paris. In fact, I wanted to to watch<\/em> The guards wanted to see how they were watching us. It was quite ironic; most of the time they were wearing sunglasses and staring at the pretty girls' behinds! Around that time, I started trying to sneak in and go to unauthorized places.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The film Embedded<\/em> (2009) bears witness to this work of infiltration: I followed demonstrations of all kinds for years, observing who the leaders were, where the police forces were, those in plainclothes, but also how the route was constructed, how the barricades were formed, or what provoked the intervention and the arrests. After a while, I realized that the same techniques were always used. I took photos of plainclothes cops talking in their jackets, noted that some would first throw things at the riot police before putting on their armbands and going to make arrests\u2026<\/p>\n\n\n\n

But it was also the question of perspective that interested me: I realized that there was systematically a line of protesters, a line of riot police, and in between, a line of journalists. However, while we always have the perspective of the journalists and the protesters, the police perspective remains missing, even though they are also filming. Seeking to obtain this perspective, I infiltrated the police force. It's a task that takes years of understanding but is ultimately quite simple to carry out once I know what type of clothing is worn, for example, and what attitude to adopt. So, I was easily identified as an undercover cop, and I was able to spend the entire demonstration on the side of the police until the end of the film when everyone puts on their police armbands. Since I don't have one, I immediately become an intruder again, someone who has no business being there, and the film ends with a baton strike, of course\u2026<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Commentary on your work <\/strong>Warning: Speed Camera<\/em><\/strong> (1998) Note that you are more interested in image than in performance. What do you mean by that?<\/strong><\/p>\n\n\n\n

I don't completely agree with the text, because it was quite a fun thing to do. Before automated speed cameras, they were rare in Paris. I positioned myself a little before the speed limit with a sign, like a warning signal. While I enjoyed it, I went with a photographer, so I was there to get a picture.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I do not deny that some of my images are purely propaganda images and are constructed as such. B-52<\/em> (2003) is an image of revolt, I can't deny it. I took this photo a week after the start of the American bombing campaign in Iraq. All the decisions made by the Bush administration during these events have had far-reaching consequences that we are still paying for today. And we already knew that then. France denounced it as early as 2001, with Dominique de Villepin's famous stance at the UN. France had forbidden the Americans from flying over its territory. Yet, the largest American base is near London, and every half hour a B-52 took off and crossed French airspace. Given the current climate of propaganda, I wanted to respond in kind. Moreover, the work isn't a photograph but a poster like those on JCDecaux billboards: same size, same technique. It's also, above all, a reinterpretation of an action carried out by Chris Burden. In the 70s and 80s, his performances were very harsh. To denounce the Vietnam War, he fired live ammunition at a passenger plane in 1974. He believed that the violence exported by the country was also suffered by the American people, and he wanted to symbolically bring it onto American soil. It was an extremely violent act, designed to create a powerful image, even though, naturally, he had little chance of shooting down the plane. With B-52<\/em> I reactivated this performance in a military context. My target was military. By this gesture I also showed a flaw in American defense: if I had managed to take this image, it was because such an action with real weapons was feasible.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

You talk about denouncing propaganda, but if we consider the criteria given by Noam Chomsky in his essay <\/strong>Propaganda<\/em><\/strong>, Propaganda is, above all, the "manufacturing of consent." In your case, on which side would the propaganda be? What consent is being created, and by whom?<\/strong><\/p>\n\n\n\n

I think I'm trying to defuse this by explaining that it's an image and that I didn't actually fire a gun. Obviously, I'm not trying to say that American soldiers should be killed, but I am denouncing an aggressive military power. Yet my method is also a caricature because I'm using tools that I don't endorse: I would never have fired a live weapon at the plane!<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Your stance is interesting because any artist, however committed, wouldn't necessarily admit that they themselves are trying to manufacture consent and manipulate viewpoints\u2026<\/strong><\/p>\n\n\n\n

The question that arises from this observation is that of the effectiveness of art. I know that at least once in my exhibitions this effectiveness has been real: a few years ago, I held an exhibition in Li\u00e8ge with Alain De Clerck (!), a Belgian artist who had invited me to create an exhibition together. However, the museum was leaking, and it was raining on the artworks. Alain De Clerck then told me he would come with an umbrella to demonstrate the absurdity of the situation. I suggested that we actually make it rain in the museum so that people could understand what was happening. We called in the city's fire department, who were completely on our side. They dumped almost 100,000 liters of water! The next day, the front page of the newspapers was "It's raining in the museum," and subsidies were immediately released. That's how we realized that our action had an impact.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

But most of the time my work is much more ambiguous. For example, in the case of Mike (2003) <\/em>We don't know who we're dealing with, or what kind of object it is. At the time, my position was difficult to maintain. Indeed, I'm not a journalist; I don't have the "knowledge." I have no more access to the truth about events than the general public, even though I'm searching for it and questioning it. In my opinion, there are political and police issues at play in media cases that people don't pay attention to. Without knowledge and without dogma, I was trying, for my part, to introduce confusion into the debate in order to highlight the gray areas.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Could you elaborate on the creation of the fictional character Mike?<\/strong><\/p>\n\n\n\n

The genesis of this film is quite far removed from the reality perceived on screen. I travel a lot and I have a lot of raw footage that I've never used. The initial idea was therefore to make a film from disparate rushes while trying to create a coherent narrative. At a certain point, the script emerged during editing: someone observing confused, potentially dangerous actions. I started writing scenes that I directed with actors, which served as transitions. Gradually, the initial rushes gave way to new sequences. But since everything is filmed with a handheld camera, one inevitably imagines a character behind it. In my work, unlike in classical cinema, the camera is always present, and we wonder who is holding it. What is their point of view? The question of point of view is certainly the key to my work. Here, I didn't want to appear as the character filming. On three or four occasions, an actor turns the camera around and speaks to it as if looking at a notebook; So it always seems like he's the one filming. Besides, I don't present myself as the film's director, but as its distributor.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I was trying to create a character that would validate all of my work. The initial premise was to say: \u00ab"I know a guy named Mike. He gives me information. For some time now I haven't heard from him except for his videotapes. Since I don't understand any of it, I'm asking you to help me understand.".<\/em> \u00bb Mike<\/em> It presents a fictionalized account of the events leading up to 9\/11, presented as the filmed diary of a man scouting locations, though this is never explicitly stated. The film is cryptic because it's full of people and places that actually appeared in the attacks. Regarding the Pentagon footage, I filmed it a year after its reconstruction, but since I used the exact same angle and dated the video 2001\u2026 In theory, in the film, the character Mike gets scared and runs away. But I was never able to present it that way. Before the film was even finished, my home was raided. My entire strategy of sending out a decoy could no longer work because, even before it was complete, I had been forced to admit that the film was fiction.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

When did this search take place in relation to the film's production?<\/strong><\/p>\n\n\n\n

Before the search, they had carried out a "Mexican-style" search, meaning they had gone through my belongings in my absence. I had my ways of figuring that out. I suspected someone had been there, but I didn't expect it to be the police. Besides, I'd been under surveillance for months. At one point, everything came crashing down on me, but for the police, it wasn't new; they had already been studying everything for months: where I went, who I called\u2026 On the day of the search, I wasn't alone but with a journalist friend. Humanity<\/em>. He was questioned as a witness while I was being interrogated. At the very moment I was undergoing this search in Bordeaux, he himself was the victim of a similar "Mexican-style" raid in Paris: his computer, camera, and photo equipment were stolen\u2026 This story reached the ears of the director of L'Humanit\u00e9<\/em> who complained to the Ministry of the Interior. Three weeks later, my friend received a phone call from a phone reseller in Algiers telling him \u00ab"I have your computer; I was so moved by the photos of your baby that if you wish, I'll send it back to you."\u00bb<\/em> !<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I wasn't indicted, but I had to defuse everything I'd set up, like the Pentagon missile theory, a recurring theory since no images are available. It's crazy when you think about it: when I went there, I spotted five surveillance cameras aligned with the building, so there is footage. I was able to meet people who had seen the surveillance videos seized by the FBI. They have the means to silence the rumors, so why not use them?<\/p>\n\n\n\n

For example, when you produce a Polaroid in court, it's practically irrefutable because it captures the immediacy, the very essence of truth. Except that even these images can be manipulated! A friend who worked at Polaroid was manufacturing digital cameras, which allowed him to print a retouched image in Polaroid format. By superimposing a missile onto an old photo of the Pentagon, I now had Polaroid evidence. With the police, I obviously had to admit that these creations were fake\u2026<\/p>\n\n\n\n

In the series Evidence,<\/em> There's also the use of Saddam Hussein's writing paper. As it happens, a journalist friend of mine, who was part of the US Army during the Iraq War, stole a pad of writing paper from inside one of the palaces and gave it to me. So it's a real piece of paper on which I wrote an Al-Qaeda slogan to validate the theory that some Americans still hold today: that he was behind 9\/11. The investigation report on these events is completely absurd. Everything that raises questions isn't even mentioned; it's completely ignored. The budget for this commission was 20 times smaller than the OJ Simpson Commission's. I'm not crying conspiracy or defending any particular theory. But the creation of these theories fascinates me. How are official narratives validated? How do rumors take hold?<\/p>\n\n\n\n

War and the police state<\/strong><\/p>\n\n\n\n

Sometimes it feels like you're presenting evidence to support the conspiracy theory when you're actually trying to denounce it. Aren't you afraid that the viewer will be confused by this approach?<\/strong><\/p>\n\n\n\n

I believe that ambiguity surrounds us. Another of my works concerns an Al-Qaeda notebook (Evidence<\/em>, (2005). This idea stemmed from a controversy at the time, when a terrorist's notebook was found in a car, seemingly confirming his terrorist identity. Many people suspected it wasn't a genuine document but a fabrication, particularly because some of the expressions appeared completely absurd in the context. A debate then arose regarding the document's validity. This document was transcribed online on the FBI website. Since people questioned its existence, I decided to create an exact copy, to fabricate evidence. The resulting document generated confusion. By introducing this question, I combated people's tendency to too easily forget, dismiss, and avoid questioning. With 20 years of hindsight, biographies often reveal the truth about things that were denied for years or written in textbooks. I believe these clandestine operations play a major role in geopolitics, and that they are not discussed enough. From a visual standpoint, it interests me because it has a lot of potential: the series Evidence<\/em> It's infinite: you tell me your version of an event and I'll fabricate proof that it happened. Anything is possible. There's no moral judgment involved; I'm ready to defend any argument.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

What is your relationship with the United States since September 11th and the three American wars that have taken place in the last 10 years?<\/strong><\/p>\n\n\n\n

I've lived in the US and I often return, and relations with the police are far more strained than in France. With my criminal record, it's difficult for me to spend less than five hours at the border! There's a culture of denunciation there that bothers me, even in the art world. When I lived in New York, I came across an article about a photographer who was taking pictures of people sleeping on the subway. The magazine explained that because of this interview, someone had reported him to the police because he didn't have the necessary permits. Their belligerent policies stem from this mindset. I prefer the more generous and democratic side of the US.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I interviewed a guy who was in charge of security at the World Trade Center, and he told me that half an hour before the first impact, he was in the basement when a huge explosion seriously injured his friend. It was while he was being brought back up to the ground floor lobby that the first plane exploded. Who's heard this story? Either this man is a pathological liar, or some details remain unclear. For my part, I'm simply waiting for the truth to come out, which will probably take 15 years, as always! Another person I interviewed was a soldier during the Gulf War. His job was to analyze bombing photos to see if the target had actually been destroyed. This expert assured me that, based on the Pentagon photos, it was impossible that it was a plane. He's convinced that a Tomahawk shaped-charge missile was responsible for the damage. His theory is that 9\/11 was actually a failed coup. Even though I don't subscribe to such a theory, it's clear that by relaying this idea, I'm promoting it, even if I otherwise defend other viewpoints. This is what makes my position difficult to maintain: I create ambiguity through the use of falsehoods and manipulation, thus participating in the very thing I denounce. When someone reads a spy novel, no one accuses the author of being infiltrated into the intelligence services. I would like to be afforded the same presumption\u2026<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The way you connect the war to the game's universe is reminiscent of <\/strong>Full Metal Jacket <\/em><\/strong>(including plush toys containing explosives). Whether it's the card game for identifying US government figures (<\/strong>Square of Aces<\/em><\/strong>, 2003) or Logic of War (1999) with water pistols transformed into flamethrowers, these works mix violence and play\u2026<\/strong><\/p>\n\n\n\n

It might sound a bit simplistic, but I became a father, and I have a son who played war games a lot. This made me realize that many toys originate from a warlike context. Through these works, I've re-established the sense of danger. Generally speaking, there's a playful and humorous element to my work, perhaps not as noticeable as it seems! It's a form of catharsis, a way to defuse tension. I'm not a violent person in my life, but I address violence in my work because, unfortunately, it's present in our daily lives. Everyone can feel this violence today.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

In your work, the weapon is not only used as a means of destruction but also as a tool for creation.  <\/strong><\/p>\n\n\n\n

For the past few years, I draw <\/em>with a rifle, by bullet impacts on wood. There is therefore one clean, smooth face with a perfect hole and another completely torn away by the impact. Facing the piece, one feels that it is a portrait created with a real weapon. The plasticity interests me greatly. The first time I used a weapon in my work was for Death Instinct (2002)<\/em> For this piece, I asked one of the cops who killed Mesrine to fire at a fence for the inaugural exhibition at the Palais de Tokyo. He did it against his superiors; he'd been refused permission. So he came two nights in a row with unregistered weapons. It was a kind of catharsis for him: he'd ensured that for the rest of his career, killing someone in the street would never happen again. Five cops riddling a criminal with bullets in broad daylight at Porte de Clignancourt remains a crime against the state. I found that these bullet impacts had considerable artistic potential. So I started shooting myself to draw. Drawing by shooting requires concentration: when you've fired 30,000 rounds and one misses, you have to start all over again. It's hours, days, even months of work. Some of my pieces require 40,000 shots! It's a form of artistic technique, in my opinion. But I don't have a monopoly on firearms; many other artists have used them: Niki de Saint Phalle, William Burroughs\u2026<\/p>\n\n\n\n

You were also interested in places of violence and places that the public is not supposed to see, such as the port of Brest.<\/strong><\/p>\n\n\n\n

During a month-long residency in Seoul, I obtained the keys to the former Korean secret service building the day after they moved out. This place, Kimuza, in the city center, is a place of terror. During the dictatorship, it was here that the regime tortured its opponents. I found padded rooms that reeked of death. These photographs are almost documentary in this abandoned building, where I adopt the perspective of the victim, which, for me, legitimizes the image\u2014that of the man on the ground.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Embedded vs. Wildcat (2006)<\/em> This is also a recurring theme. Today, journalists are embedded with the armed forces for their reporting. They live with the soldiers, wear the same uniform, and are necessarily in complete empathy with them; their point of view is biased. Wildcats infiltrate these groups to gain a more "neutral" perspective. It's crucial to know whose point of view is being expressed, who filmed the images.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I'm interested in places when they have something absurd about them. In Viewpoint (2002)<\/em>, I'm taking a series of photos of the Brest military arsenal, located in the heart of the city and, of course, where photography is strictly prohibited, even from home\u2026 You can't take a picture of your daughter blowing out the candles on her birthday cake if the arsenal is in the background. It makes no sense! I pretended to be a potential buyer of one of their apartments to be able to take these forbidden photos.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

As soon as there's a "no photography" sign, it excites me. Sometimes I even involve the public, like in Makeup (2002)<\/em> where suddenly an ordinary person finds themselves behind the wheel of a police car and is terrified. The Br\u00e9tigny art center is right in the heart of a housing project. A police officer can genuinely be afraid to do their rounds. Instead of being a cowboy driving a police car, the risk is twofold: getting pelted with stones or being arrested by real police officers! It took some convincing to get the art center's director on board for this exhibition. Is displaying a replica police car in a museum considered art? It's a legitimate question. My lawyer then told me: the only way to display this car is to put up a sign next to it warning that it is not "a real police car but a work of art." In a way, the law has therefore addressed my artistic concerns.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Are you afraid of a police state? Your work gives a general idea of the panopticon as <\/strong>Cops everywhere<\/em><\/strong> (2008): warning of the presence of the police even if they are not there produces the desired result.<\/strong><\/p>\n\n\n\n

This sign is like our radar signs: when it's in use, it indicates aircraft checks. It also raises questions about the effectiveness of a slogan. I have a whole documentary and photographic series, reportage-style. I always have a camera in my pocket to supplement my series. Like the leopard.<\/em> I especially love those wounded leopards, those old ladies in leopard furs with their canes\u2026 There's also the seriesbang<\/em> which are images of violence seen and shown head-on, or even bouquets of flowers on the side of the road. I have a series manifest<\/em> which are simply people expressing themselves on the walls. Often these images require context to be deciphered; for me, it's more akin to note-taking.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

In conclusion, what is the question that we do not<\/strong> You didn't ask, and you would have liked us to ask you?<\/em><\/strong><\/p>\n\n\n\n

I love it when people talk to me about a performance that few have seen; I first performed it at the Cairo Biennale. I took the two black Mercedes from the embassy. I got into the first car, blocked the steering wheel with a rope, and blocked the accelerator. The car then went around in circles, driverless. I jumped out and took a second car, which I drove into the circle of the first: the cars grazed each other twice on each lap, seen from above, a kind of figure eight, an infinity symbol.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I feel like a bullfighter moving from car to car to readjust my trajectory. It captures the playful side of the work. I like that this is highlighted in my work because it's a rather absurd, funny piece that borrows elements of power: the ambassador's big black sedan.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

In my work, I incorporate pre-existing manufactured elements, which come with their context. Similarly, in War Games (2006)<\/em> I take a table and embed screens underneath to watch a banned film. I found this table in the United States at the official supplier to court offices. For me, it's important to invoke these symbols, the weight of the object. I also like it when people notice the clashes in my work. I work a lot through impact, mixing, and collision. One of my latest large pieces is a tanker truck and a bus that I've been combining. I made a tanker truck with 40 hidden seats inside for stowaways (My home is a castle II<\/em>, 2014).<\/p>","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

Rencontre avec Alain Declercq Paris, le 19 mars 2016 Premiers pas Tout d\u2019abord, pourrais-tu revenir pour nous sur ton parcours et ce qui t\u2019a pouss\u00e9 vers l\u2019Art ? J\u2019ai suivi des \u00e9tudes d\u2019Art appliqu\u00e9es, mais pas d\u2019Arts plastiques. J\u2019ai en effet commenc\u00e9 par un BTS de graphisme \u00e0 Olivier de Serres, \u00e0 une \u00e9poque o\u00f9 il […]<\/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":[],"class_list":["post-162","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-uncategorized"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/qgdesartistes.fr\/en\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/162","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=162"}],"version-history":[{"count":1,"href":"https:\/\/qgdesartistes.fr\/en\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/162\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":163,"href":"https:\/\/qgdesartistes.fr\/en\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/162\/revisions\/163"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/qgdesartistes.fr\/en\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=162"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/qgdesartistes.fr\/en\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=162"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/qgdesartistes.fr\/en\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=162"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}