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A.M.S.: Do you also feel that these places and objects tell the story of people and the times they lived in?
A.P.: They are archaeological sites of your own soul, because you are the one who comes across the traces. I’ve always been interested in things that are falling into ruins or were halfway completed; in other words, works that were unfinished, for whatever reason. You can express a lot of yourself through them, because you reinterpret them, you bring them to life again inside you. There must be something about these things that strike a chord in you; otherwise you wouldn’t care about them. You enter an industrial space and you say: “how desolate”, and you walk away. But something about it already belongs to you. This is what happens to me with these shapes and traces; these disused iron pieces. I don’t know, sometimes I almost feel I’m violating holy places: you get in and start painting things that were part of somebody else’s life and work. I don’t mean in the sense of wondering what exactly took place there or what the workers’ lives were like – that’s not it. It’s a lot of things together, very difficult to explain. They belong to me in some way that I don’t even want to reveal to myself, because it would require a lot of analysing. I’d rather “go fishing” in the chaos for a trace or an emotion. Analysis seeks to explain emotions, so it’s hard to give an answer.
If I’m painting a figure, in that moment I feel the need to get in touch with myself. If I’m painting an interior, I’m getting in touch with my “outside”, my container. Many people, especially writers, don’t like to admit it, but there is no doubt that every piece of work is autobiographical. I don’t think you, the artist or author, can avoid it. Why did I choose that particular subject instead of something else one day? Because on that day, I needed to get in touch with that part of myself. I couldn’t express myself in any other way. So my work must be autobiographical. It’s difficult to come to terms with our deeper levels. We‘re quick to talk about other people, but it takes a lifetime to understand ourselves, and sometimes, even that is not enough time.
A.M.S.: Some critics have pointed out that your paintings of industrial subjects look like “visions”. For instance, the series Officina Renault (Renault Factory) of 2004, where the interiors, disused for years, seem to be lit up by an unnatural light. What do you think?
A.P.: I guess I don’t notice it. I start working on a subject, but while I paint, I don’t try to faithfully reproduce what I see. My work is emotive; I use strong brush strokes so that the painting emerges without my thinking about it too much. Creating a special kind of lightening effect in one part of the painting rather than another are just choices I make instinctively.
A.M.S.: Do you intend to document your work?
A.P.: Not at all
A.M.S.: What about photos you take during your site visits and then use as an inspiration for your paintings?
A.P.: It took 2 years to get permission to take pictures at the Renault factory at Ile Seguin. I was able to photograph a place where almost nobody is allowed to take pictures. Maybe because Pinault is creating his own museum there, but also for political reasons. At one point there were demonstrations against privatisation. Anyway, entry was forbidden and I had the pleasure of being one of the few, and probably the last, who was allowed to take pictures of the site. Later I found out that a lot of young people took undercover pictures of the place. At the Paris opening I met many of them, who had gone to Ile Seguin at night by boat, taking a lot of risks. But I was not interested in documenting. It was not my intention to show what the Renault factory is like now.
A.M.S.: Are you the only one to shoot the pictures that inspire your paintings?
A.P.: Mostly, but if somebody else’s pictures suggest something interesting, I definitely use them as a basis to work from. Visiting the industrial sites was very stimulating, and the memory of experience inspires me when I use my own photos. On the other hand, since it is often difficult to get permission to take pictures, I draw on of my extensive collection of texts and images on this subject as well, and I also use photographs taken by others, or even historical ones.
A.M.S.: Recently, you started painting exteriors as well. Is this a transition?
A.P.: Yes, a transition that is still in progress. I think the
subject of water is probably the vehicle for this change. I realized something was pulling me towards the theme of water, but 4 or 5 years went by before I could actually paint it. It was as if I had to reach a new level of awareness. For a while, I concentrated on painting human figures in water. This was a turning point for me and water was the key element. It was not by chance I painted my first exteriors right after this
water phase, linking water and industry by painting a shipyard. Now, having worked on this for some years, I’m conscious of the transition – I didn’t understand it while it was happening.
