Name: Frédéric Nauczyciel
Age: 45
Occupation: Artist
City: Paris
Your new show at Julie Meneret Contemporary Art, “The Fire Flies [Baltimore / Paris],” looks at voguing, especially with the House of Revlon in Baltimore. Did your art come out of an interest in voguing or were you already an artist when you got into ballroom culture?
It’s not about voguing; it’s more with voguers. I’m more working with the people themselves. It all started when I met Marquis Revlon and Dale Blackheart in Baltimore. I was actually trying to go to the States and I went to Baltimore because of the Omar character from “The Wire.” I was trying to find keys to understand why in France it is so difficult to talk about gender and minorities. So we began work in the studio with Marquis Revlon and Dale Blackheart and some others. It was important for me to bring them in a studio, for them to understand that I was not just doing a “Paris is Burning” documentary.
And then, I was doing all these little iPhone movies and suddenly I realized I could be doing something out of it. My first thing was to keep in mind not to film what seemed interesting and not to make things exotic. It was very important for me not to make all these voguing scenes and these people from Baltimore exotic. That was the first mark of respect. The second mark of respect was also not to document their lives but to create fictions together. I was telling them that we shouldn’t give everything to everybody. Like, you see “Paris is Burning” and you think you know everything about voguing and I think that’s not fair. If people really want to know what voguing is like in Baltimore they should come to Baltimore and go to the ghettos and have the guts to discover this culture.
Your new show also looks at voguers in Paris. In what ways is Paris ballroom culture different from Baltimore?
The first difference is that the Paris scene is very young. It’s like a few years compared to the States, where it has existed since the ’50s or the ’60s. I’m still not working on voguing in Paris and this is sometimes a misunderstanding that I try to avoid. I am trying to understand what the French culture could bring to voguing, because voguing has this quality of taking influences. When I arrived in Baltimore in May 2011, there was “Black Swan” with Natalie Portman on the screens. And all the ball was about “Black Swan.” They take influences from everywhere. That is why I am trying to bring other influences into the voguing, especially coming to France.
Since France is so much about the court, so much about the Louis XIV, so much about center and periphery that I had this idea about dealing with Baroque music and French Baroque dance because the French Baroque dance is also an expression of the white power. Historically speaking, Baroque dance was a popular dance. It became more minimal, more savant. And it began to be at the court, but it comes from a very popular background. And even in the courts, people who were not from the court — they were dancers, could attend a Baroque ball if they were good enough. I think voguing since the ’60s is codifying, getting more and more complicated, more and more codified and it’s, for me, there is something very Baroque in it: all the outfits, the gender questions, the fact that femininity is endorsed by men. And through Baroque I also can work with the Paris voguers on the idea that they are not American, but that they are French.
Not only French but they are also French from the Caribbean. Very few of them are French-African, most of them are French-Caribbeans. This means a story that is very parallel to the African-American in the States because they are actually all French for a long time ago but still black and still not considered fully part of the politics and society of France. So I try to bring all this French-Caribbean culture mixing with the art of voguing.
This is your first solo show in New York? How does that feel?
I am super excited. It’s crazy because everything began in New York for me. The American culture is really my childhood. You know, “New York, New York” the musical and “I want to be a part of it,” blah blah blah, stuff like that. It is super important for me but I never realized that I would one day exhibit something in New York. Never occurred to me. And I have been working for 10 years with an American choreographer from the House of Modern Dance, he was very close to Robert Wilson. So Andy Degroat is really my mentor. I didn’t study in art school. I learned everything I know working with Andy as an illustrator and personal assistant.
So going to New York was super important for me of course. And when I was working for Andy as an administrator I went to New York and I saw, in MoMA, the first film that MoMA acquired from Steve McQueen. It was such a huge breakthrough for me that three or four years later I dropped everything to begin work of my own. So Steve McQueen was the origin of it — it was in New York at MoMA. So coming to New York and having this show is super exciting for me.
What is working in Paris like?
Paris in the ’80s was heaven on earth. It was not racist, it was post-gender, it was the place that every artist in the world would go to if they were suffering of anything in their own country. I don’t know what happened after the ’80s, but it became so conservative. That’s why I am working on these issues because I need my work to be more and more political because Europe is getting very old — and we need to go further and trust youth and trust the future. That’s why I am also working on these questions.
What’s the last show that you saw?
The last show I saw was Pierre Huyghe, the French artist, at the Centre Pompidou, which was really a great show because it was maybe like 20 or 30 of his pieces that he brought together in some kind of an exhibition that is so non-conventional and has so many layers and levels of understandings that it was one of the most popular exhibitions in Paris in a long time. You could see children from age 5 to people of 75. You could see a lot of very different people, not only people comfortable with museums and the arts. And yet, his work is very conceptual and very minimal. For me it was beautiful to see that.
Describe a typical day in your life as an artist.
It changes all the time. It is super weird right now, because since beginning of the year I woke up every morning at exactly 7:50. Don’t ask me why. I don’t go to the workshop before what I call “the workshop before 11.” So all the time before 11 is for me not to be lost in emails. I hate emails more and more. Morning is the best time when your mind is very clear. That is the moment when I watch a movie or get inspiration doing research, stuff like that. And then I work after 11. I am trying to resist production and emails and to get into the real work. I don’t go out so much. I don’t go much to openings. When I see a show, I don’t go to an opening, because I really want to see the show. I am going a lot to movies. My first inspiration is cinema because I was living in the suburbs. I couldn’t go out and I was not in Paris so Saturday night when I was 13 or 14, it was movies and television. And my first window on art was really through cinema.
What is the best movie you’ve seen lately?
“12 Years a Slave.” I think it is beautiful and beautifully done. The idea of showing the story of a man who was not a slave and became a slave for 12 years is super interesting because it can tell people that from one day to another you can lose your freedom. It’s more about that.
What’s the most indispensable item in your studio?
It’s my window.
Do you collect anything?
The only thing that I collect as art is drawings, actually. But I don’t collect, I’m not a collector at all. I am more into encounters with people than objects and having my stuff. It came from when I decided to be an artist, I had to give up on my flat and for two or three years, I did not have a flat. I learned how to be very light and not have anything with me. So when I came back to having a flat and having a studio, I decided I would not collect things.
What is your karaoke song?
“I Just Don’t Know What to Do With Myself” by Dusty Springfield. It’s a very good karaoke song.
What artwork would you like to own?
I would like to purchase the work of a Belgian artist called Arie Mandelbaum. It is absolutely beautiful. He is 75 years old and he is doing drawings and paintings. I was really astonished when I saw the first one. He deals a lot with questions of Shoah for example, which is very close to my own family history. And the next work I’m going to do also is how my family deals with the memory of the Shoah. So I really want to buy a piece of Arie Mandelbaum.
What’s the first artwork you ever sold?
It was a photograph. It’s very interesting because it was bought by a foundation in Paris but anonymously by someone I don’t know. It is a photograph that I did in Istanbul. It is a tribute to Edward Hopper. It was the first silver chrome that I printed and it’s been bought by the Cannes Foundation in 2005 and I don’t know for whom.
What’s the weirdest thing you ever saw happen in a museum or gallery?
I loved the performance of an Italian living in Paris — Alberto Sorbelli. He is doing a lot of performances and he was prostituting himself in front of the Louvre as an art piece. And he was proposing his services to the public of the museum. And it was in the same room as the “La Joconde,” I think.
What’s your favorite post-gallery watering hole or restaurant?
In Paris, what I like to do is go to Le Marais in the older, Jewish neighborhood — which is also the neighborhood for the galleries now — to have a falafel in the street. In spring and summer you sit on the stairs of a church and eat your sandwich and talk to people.
What’s the last great book you read?
There are several of them, but of course the book by Georges Didi-Huberman, “The Survival of the Fireflies.” I brought it with me when I went to Baltimore. It is actually exactly what I was doing in Baltimore with the voguers. Fireflies means the culture of resistance against the mainstream culture. It’s the little faint light of fireflies against a tremendous light of politics, of fascism, of everything like that. So this book is very powerful for me. It led me to take all this subculture in the best way I could. It’s talking also about dance and choreography. He’s a philosopher of the image so he is always dealing with the question of image. So with this work and book, I opened up my practice from photography to video and dance. I consider dance to be creation of images also. It is living images. It is also about always being close to the body and to dance as a political instrument. So the book is very powerful of course.
What international art destination do you most want to visit?
There is one where I want to work, which is South Africa. I really want to work there because I met a lot of South African artists especially in France. The exchanges and the discussions I had with them were so subtle, interesting, deep and funny. I really want to go there also because of the post-apartheid situation of South Africa. I am super interested in how we can deal with this because it is all about reconciliation. And to be honest, I am sometimes not very optimistic about possible reconciliation between Arabic and French, between African-Americans and whites, and stuff like that. I think we should learn from South Africa. I am very interested in working with teenagers in South Africa.
Who’s your favorite living artist?
I told you already I guess. One is Steve McQueen and another one that was important for me from my generation also is Apichatpong Weerasethakul. He is the Thai movie director who is also a visual artist. I think Steve McQueen was the president of the jury at Cannes when Apichatpong Weerasethakul got the golden palm.
What are your hobbies?
I draw as a hobby and I play Go — it’s a Japanese strategy game.