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1-54 Spotlight | Clay Apenouvon

Clay Apenouvon was born in 1970 in Togo, where as a child he had a conflicting relationship with the school institution. In 1992 he left Togo for Paris, where he met many artists, including Claude Viallat, a key figure of the Supports/Surfaces movement, and further developed his skillset. Apenouvon transforms raw materials produced by society, such as plastic, cardboard, and survival blankets, through his creative process. His work involves using cardboard as both a physical support and artistic medium, with it acting as a symbolic material to address the harmfulness of packaging– a major narrative in both his thinking and artistic approach. Apenouvon is interested in the New Realism movement, with his plastic creations being characterised by an appropriation of what is real.

For Apenouvon, his work embodies the notion of adding soul to concrete substances. He renders materials that are immediately available around him the origin of his creations, creating installation spectacles from various materials that would otherwise belong to the everyday.

His work has been exhibited in FIAC (2019), Galerie Marianne Ibrahim, 110 Galerie Véronique Rieffel, Beaux Arts Des Meilleurs solo show (2023), Biennale de Dakar (2024) and Prix de la Norval Foundation, Afrique du Sud.

Diving further into his creative landscapes, methodologies and formative years, be sure to read the unique written interview below, conducted by Shaakirah Sivardeen and translated into English by Olivier Souchard, it further probes the array of nuances and motifs inherent to Clay Apenouvon’s coherently envisioned, and ever-evolving, artistic world and practice.

You speak with great wisdom and pride about the ‘entirety of blackness’ being a meeting between the visual material and your own blackness. How has your personal relation to the colour, and its connection to identity, evolved across your life?

I have lived and worked in Europe for the past 30 years, specifically in France, where I gradually became aware of my “blackness”. My body knows things through lived experiences, feelings, and through the testimonies of others. The stretchable black plastic film, chosen as a raw material, has become a symbol of all the possibilities of transformation. This material, generally used as a simple and effective packaging, becomes a key element in my artistic work.

The black film is essential for the transport of goods, but it becomes invisible once its work is done, abandoned like plastic waste. This fate eerily resembles that of black people and Africans in the world. As an artist, I transform this black film, bringing it from shadow to light. I rely on its expressive qualities and memory to create sensitive and sensual visual narratives. Through my desire and the sacrifices of the material, the black film finds its place on the artistic stage, offering its body to art to return to the light.

As a child, what did having to create from your environment, instead of resorting to commercialised toys and products, teach you about what it means to be an artist? How did actively participating in the creation of your own entertainment influence your personal values?

I believe that a child’s first education is learning to seriously play with other children. I was a child for a long time… and I might still be that child. The man I have become today has a lot to do with that child. A child always needs to have fun, and when, very early on, they are forced to focus on their natural environment, to rummage through the neighbours’ garbage or public dumps to find their raw materials for the creation of new toys, it develops a unique sense of creativity. As a child, I was fascinated by these activities, and I learned that when you love doing something, you do it well and with all your heart. This is a universal value.

What practices outside of the studio help you bring the optimal version of yourself to your work? Which of them facilitate your deepest levels of creativity, and what does an optimal creative process mean to you?

I love playing sports. I played football for a long time in a neighbourhood club created with friends and family. I have listened to a lot of music ever since I was a child, and I always have a song playing on repeat in my head. I like reading, going to the cinema, watching films about wildlife and history, I love fiction, documentaries, visiting exhibitions, discovering new topics of interest and sharing the joy of this with others. I do not have a clear path towards creation, I always follow the path of desire.

Does your artistic decision to use ‘poor’ rather than expensive materials, and advocacy of the fact that the ‘artist must work with what he has’, imply a lesser value to artworks that do not? Does bringing simple materials to ‘a level of richness’ convey a greater feeling of mastery for you as the creator?

I developed a personal and particular relationship with materials and the possibilities entailed by creation early on. When I later discovered the Italian artists of the Arte Povera movement, such as Giuseppe Penone, Michelangelo Pistoletto, and others, it reinforced my conviction regarding the final concept of the art object. Bringing humble materials to a level of richness is just a path to reach my objective. It’s well known: All roads lead to Rome… whatever path is taken, it will eventually lead to the desired goal. It’s not the path that is most important, but the destination. When one is poor, one must carve out their path from where they are.

Some of your past works in plastic have been extremely colourful. Whilst you have an extremely rich conception of your intentional use of black, do you have an equivalent narrative for your use of colour?

In my mind, colours are like musical notes, spanning from high to low, so for me, black is in a low tone. My work in the Plastic Attack series, which is an explosion of colours, was born from my observation of natural environments polluted by extremely colourful plastic bags. It is a horrifying spectacle, an assault on nature. Plastic Attack aims to alert people to this fatal beauty. The plastic bags, with their diverse colours, represent a visible and alarming reality.

Your use of gold corresponds to both the gold-rich African continent and the survival blankets given to migrants crossing the Mediterranean sea to reach Europe. You speak of the irony of this as a tacit forsaking of real African gold for fake Western gold. What kind of emotions does this bring up for you having been born in Togo yourself, and how does this imbue your work?

Africa is a continent tragically rich in mineral resources, coveted by the rest of the world. It is a land where raw materials are extracted, but their transformation always takes place elsewhere. And yet, these transformation industries are simultaneously essential for creating jobs for African youth, who are born, grow up, and live in countries in perpetual crisis.

This is the reality for many Africans who migrate to Europe, discovering upon their arrival the deception and unfairness inherent to their experience. The stark reality of migration often inevitably contrasts the dream; the “gold” survival blanket, which is of course actually just plastic, being a symbol of artificiality. Risking one’s life for this artificial “gold” only to realise that one has been deceived, means finding oneself stripped of everything, including dignity; which is emblematic of the migrant struggle for survival.

For you, your work constitutes an entire commitment of oneself and one’s understanding of the world to creation, bringing art into fruition as a result. To what degree do innate skill and dedicated practice operate and interact within your own endeavours? Are your works more largely the result of spontaneous inclination or conscious effort?

Yes, I can say something along those lines. Practising art continuously, without interruption, means accepting to live with it all the time. One cannot live halfway; that is mere survival. My works are various expressions of life through materials. Here, I particularly appreciate the quest for traces of life within the flesh of plastic. Plastic, a material that is an enemy to nature and life, nonetheless presents a fascinating challenge to explore.

Creation and production are intrinsically linked in my practice. The need to create is always present, but the question often is: where and how does one start? And when does one take the plunge? Many artists experience these moments. It requires considerable effort to begin, but nothing compares to the deep satisfaction of a result that meets the universal artistic values I share with others.

What is next? Can you tell us about any upcoming projects? 

I am looking forward to seeing my next project installed in Dakar, as part of the fifteenth edition of the Biennale. I am very excited to participate in this significant art event on the African continent… to give and receive.

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