[version française]

Texts on DMC
• Mathieu Richard
• Anne Cartel
• Neil Mulholland
• Duncan McLaren
• Alex Linklater

Interviews
• Robert Fleck

DMC on DMC
• Statement 2008
• Statement 2001

DMC on ABC
• Design for life
• The suburbs are on fire
• Something had to happen

DMC not DMC
• Other sites
• Other people

Contact DMC
• Click Here

Interview [by e-mail] with Robert Fleck

[published in the exhibition catalogue "non", FRAC pays de la loire, 2002]

David Michael Clarke: Earlier this morning, we were speaking about "Ideal situation : land - artist & girlfriend - sky". It refers to a piece made in 1969 [the year in which I was born] by the french artist Gina Pane. The full title of her piece is in fact "Ideal situation : land - artist - sky". It is a self-portrait of the artist standing alone in a ploughed field. But I am convinced that she wasn't alone. In 1969 there weren't too many remote-controlled cameras knocking around. And even in the Summer of Love, I don't suppose she pegged it across the field after having set off the self-timer. It's my guess that she had a "friend" with her.

Ideal Situation : Land - Artist & Girlfriend - Sky [after Gina Pane]
2001 | C-type photograph mounted on dibond | 50 x 75 cm

Robert Fleck: Your work has a lot of humour, clairvoyance and self-derision. At least, that's the first thing that comes to mind when I think of your recent work. In your version of "Ideal situation", it is important that, without hesitation, we immediately think of this photo-performance by Gina Pane. Contrary to much of her work, in "Ideal situation" she succeeded in making a piece that functions as a generic image of her time, while remaining discreet and personal, and you lean on both aspects of the work at the same time. The immediate but non-literal reference strongly reinforces this aspect. [By the way, I also have a photo that is very similar to Gina Pane - it is pinned up above the worktable in the space where I keep my archives]. Gina Pane was one of the rare installation and performance artists who managed to completely integrate photography, or to be more precise - the photographic document, into her work. Pane was extremely conscious of the importance of the role of photographic documentation for the art of installation and performance. These photos are thus entirely controlled and directed by her. But yes, it is with someone else. Pane engaged, instructed and directed the photographer. And yes, between them there was more than a "love story". It was more like an "erotic story". It corresponds with the homosexual aesthetic that Gina Pane created, although she never talked about it. And it's here that your work makes its intervention. In a manner of speaking, you direct another person to enter into the image. Through your work, the photographer in the work of Gina Pane, enters into the photographic field. And in the blink of the eye, everything becomes heterosexual. One sees two artists. And that creates another "love angle", because we see two artists in love. A large section of your work turns around this axis. What exactly were the circumstances of this photo? Where was it taken? What were you thinking about when it was taken?

Another thing: here we are discussing things in french by e-mail, but french is not my mother tongue. And nor is it yours. All the same it's paradoxal, this force of attraction exuded by french life, which makes it appear natural that people should express themselves in french without completely mastering the language.

DMC: I would like to be able to remember when and how I had the idea for the piece. I often note down my ideas, but rarely the reasons why they exist. After having had the idea, it wasn't straightforward to produce. First of all, I had to find a ploughed field, which had an horizon undisturbed by trees, hedges or telegraph poles. Evidently the weather was also a factor. But also Anabelle had to be free, and indeed another friend to take the photo. [If this process is taken up again and again by other artists, we might well have stumbled upon another way to produce the album cover for Sergeant Peppers.]

The first day spent searching for the field was with Anabelle, her mother and her brother. It took place in the Val de Saire [Normandy], but without success. The second day out was spent searching in the countryside to the southwest of Nantes. This time we were accompanied by Emmanuelle Cherel. We searched for hours and hours, but couldn't find anything right. The third time was with Abraham Poincheval, and was to the east of Nantes in the direction of Angers. This time we found the "ideal situation", but Abraham didn't pull off the photo. So we went back to the field the following week with another friend, Gaby Thibault, and this time the horizon was indeed horizontal!

I've only recently discovered the work of Gina Pane because despite an international career, she is still relatively unknown outside France. A while back, I was invited to give a lecture at School of Art in Le Mans - where she was a teacher. As a souvenir, they gave me her monograph. I was immediately captivated by the work she did at the end of the sixties, right at the beginning of her career, especially this photo here. You can really sense that it was made right on the cusp of when she discovered a new way of working. It's a really significant moment. It's a really strong photo. And it's even sharper because with this type of key work [that marks the change from one idea towards another], one really senses the anxiety and insecurity of the artist, mixed together with courage and confidence needed to take such a first step into the unknown. At moments like this, the artist isn't far from resembling a young lover "asking out" his/her "desired one" for the first time. The moment is synchronously perfect, and laden with difficulties. There is something marvellous, and yet still something that doesn't work. It's probably why this kind of work is just so compelling.

RF: We mustn't go too far in this comparison with Gina Pane, but it could bring a rather striking aspect of you work into the light. I've had this impression since the first time we met during the interviews for the International Post-Graduate study programme at the School of Art in Nantes. All your artistic work, from the very beginning right up until today, is a process which scrutinizes your own sentiments in a non-psychological manner, that which is impressive to you, your reaction to our contemporary society, your reaction to the evolution of our daily environment and our way of life etc. Above all, you do all that without any formal or material "a priori" but in a manner that is completely and openly indeterminate. The form and the materials used can change completely from one work to another. And neither are your works sociological essays, nor allegories, nor are they politically correct arguments [something quite widespread in your generation, by the way]; they are symbolic propositions that are voluntarily "little", like a little break in time, a stop where one says to oneself: for a brief moment I will live outside of time and backwards. You create these little poetic moments like that. And it's these moments which link you to Gina Pane, leaving aside her affirmed symbolism.

Razor [Every artist dreams of an absolute success, sometimes the dreams become reality]
2001 | Found object | 15 x 5 cm

Shirt [sometimes you have to escape from art]
2002 | Found object | 80 x 50 cm

DMC: It's true that I am fascinated by a very special, almost magical moment, and often the intensity is created by a bizarre juxtaposition, a disjunction even. While I was in Glasgow, I was really marked by the presence of two things: the first was a very pure sort of conceptual art, you know, the " art is art as art " of Ad Reinhardt... the tautologies that proliferate around this subject are intoxicating. I adore them! But at the same time they rather trouble me. There is something on the level of the separation between art and life that doesn't quite do it.

The other thing is a question of context. At Glasgow School of Art, there is a department that is called "Environmental Art". It has this motto which goes, "the context is half the art". For me, the context of my work is more or less the context in which I live. And this context within which I live includes both my public and private lives. In short, if half of the work is the context, and if the context and life are the same thing, then life makes up half of what we call "art". I think it's for this reason that I interest myself so much in an art that re-invests in life ; for example my " mondrian " leg-razor, or another ready-made that you haven't seen yet. It's a " mondrian " cyclist's shirt. I was thinking of you when I titled it. It's called, " Sometimes you've just got to get out of the art world ". It's impossible !

RF: It seems to me that your work is thus founded on a principle of creativity, and not on the formal fixation that is apparent upon first glance. In other words, with regards to your work, an artistic activity is very " multi-form " in character, even if a little later, it develops into a body of work that is more directly related, one to another. Do you see things a bit like that ? And if so, how do you see your in relation to the Fluxus movement, that insists in the same way on placing creative activity first, unlike other artistic movements which place the emphasis on formalism ?

One square metre of raw canvas with 212 stolen kisses [from Fabrice Hybert]
2001 | 2 C-type photographs mounted on dibond & lipstick on canvas | each element 100 x 100 cm

DMC: That's a very pertinent question. The answer is " yes ", but my explanation will be a little complicated. For example, in the context of an exhibition, I find it hard to think of my works as " works ". I call them " elements ". For me that suggests a multiplicity of possible meanings. They can be installed or arranged in different configurations. It is in this way that Douglas Gordon influenced me while I was at Glasgow School of Art. I remember the conversation. He told me that the form of his work is never fixed : that the form of a given work changes nearly every time that work is exposed. Maybe that's an easy thing for an artist who works predominantly in video to say, but I really like the idea of a work that formally changes all the time.

On the surface, the work by Fabrice Hybert " One square metre of lipstick " would appear to be a work whose form is fixed. But in fact even it changes form each time it is exhibited. The FRAC des Pays de la Loire, who have it in their collection, reactivate the surface, by applying a fresh coat of lipstick. In a few millenniums time, when people look at this work, they're going to be completely lost. In front of their eyes, they will see " one metre cubed of lipstick " and will wonder why the title speaks of surface. In fact it was when Jean-Michel Jagot told me of the reactivation process, that my idea for the " stolen kisses " really took shape.

My relations to Fluxus huh ? This is really going to make my father-in-law laugh ! He's always trying to persuade me that my work is Fluxus. But Fluxus is one of the movements of the 20th century that I understand the least. Maybe because by its very nature, it is " flou ". Nonetheless, I'm sure that he's right. Fluxus has always caught my attention - now more than ever. Since I came to France, I often find myself thinking about Robert Filliou. I discovered quite a lot of things about my own practice while mulling over his phrase, " art is the thing that makes life more interesting than art ".

DMC: Hi Robert, just a little note to say that I am here. I shall be connected all day today, and my mail will download every half-hour. Catch you soon.

RF: We have to keep some of these " empty " exchanges. Like this one here. It will work like a subtitle, OK ?

DMC: OK, fine by me.

RF: Without dwelling too long on Fluxus, or indeed another movement, it strikes me that your method of creation is not so "ex nihilo", but that it consists of hooking yourself up to the current, onto things that happening right now? And that brings us on to another question: in saying that, one could create the false impression that we are talking about "fashionable art", an art that speculates with the clichés of trends, of pop culture, of the moment. Yet, it seems to me, that your "activity" turns the other way. It turns to render an individual [firstly you, and then the spectator] a little independent. In a world dominated by the "cultural industry", a little is already a lot.

Another question: What language did your grandfather speak to you in? My grandfather spoke to me in german, although his mother tongue was serbo-croat, which he later renounced.

DMC: I like things that move, that change. I am also into things that are contradictory. Even I am contradictory. It's because I am always thinking about my activity, that my attitude changes. Thus that which I say this week is unlikely to be the same as that which I say next week. And that which I do... well that will undoubtedly be something else as well.

Do you know Claes Oldenburg's text, " I am for an art..." ? I love this text. I try to be just as open, to be ready to respond to whatever phenomenon or idea that arrives.

My grandpa ? I only knew one. And he was on the english side of the family. And he had the linguistic ability of the average english man. On the other hand, my father speaks five languages, I think. He comes from Hong Kong. He speaks Cantonese, Mandarin, English, Japanese, and if I'm not mistaken, some sort of Indo-Malaysian. And I wasn't even brought up to be bi-lingual, let alone tri-lingual. Once, I asked my mother about this. She told me that in the sixties, there was this educational theory that said bi-lingual children didn't learn as fast as children who spoke only one language. So there you go - shame !

RF: Have you always wanted to be an artist ? I ask you this because in your work, you still hold on to that certain adolescent, believer, even dreamer (in a good sense). You still have that freshness that adolescents have when they decide to become artists. And this brings a freshness to your work. And another question : have you an idea of what art might be like, or how it might be transformed over the coming years as we go into the next century ? Do you know today, even in a hazy way, what kind of art you will be making in 2022, when for example, you have your retrospective in a big museum, the museum who will be restoring the work that you are making today for the FRAC Pays de la Loire ?

DMC: Maybe subconsciously I always wanted to be an artist, but history will tell another story. In fact, when I was in the sixth form in England, I started studying for exams in maths, physics and chemistry. Then, suddenly one morning, I said to myself, I want to go to art school. When I arrived at Glasgow School of Art, there was this idea floating around that said: you are an artist from the minute you decide to make art all the time, which is to say from the minute you enrol at art school. So I was there at this big moment. I was a little younger than Douglas Gordon, Christine Borland, Ross Sinclair, Roddy Buchanan, but I was in the same year as Jonathon Monk and David Shrigley. From this moment on, I have always considered myself an artist, and that which I do / make as art.

But one mustn't forget that for us, through being an artist, one in brought to interrogate oneself as to the nature of art. That's to say that one is always (yesterday, today and tomorrow) asking oneself the " big questions ", the questions that one started to ask when adolescent. It's a spirit that I hope never to lose.

Because of all that, I don't have the slightest idea what art could be, or what I might be doing as art in twenty years time. I think if I knew that, as an artist I would be already dead. For me, the most important thing is to keep the possibility of surprising myself, to go off on unexpected tangents. Anabelle is a very good influence on me. Whenever she thinks that what I am doing is boring or static, she pushes me where I don't want to go. She's brilliant.

At this very moment, I have just finished the 57th canvas that I have painted since Christmas. The last four are massive. They are nearly two metres by two metres. They are called " Non-specific reference point : attempt to achieve purity (failed) ". When I look at them , I can't believe it was me who produced them. It's my ability to surprise myself that keeps me breathing, that keeps me alive.

And 2022 ? The big retrospective ? At least, I can say that I hope they will have to construct tons of false walls, because of all the changes in direction that my work will have undertaken. I think we've nearly run out of space for the catalogue. That makes me sad because it's really a pleasure to work like that. I hope we continue this later on. So, you have the last word.

RF: This brings me to a reading that one can have of the exhibition of surrealism, that is currently on show at Beaubourg. Either you see a succession of little easel paintings (like the organisers have), or you privilege the fact that the artists who took part in surrealism created an unmoderated cult for artistic freedom. It is this second aspect that I take, and it counts equally for our interview.