Creating something timeless is an ambitious endeavour—to do so requires you to defy life’s one certainty. However, such challenges are not to be cowered from according to Cyril Lancelin. The French artist, also known online by the handle town.and.concrete has collaborated with Swiss luxury house, La Prairie on a new installation titled ‘219 Spheres’.
As its name connotes, the structure is comprised of 219 identical golden spheres arranged in 26 columns inspired by the golden caviar bead motif from La Prairie’s popular Skin Caviar Liquid Lift Serum. Situated in the heart of Paris’ Village Royal, the structure possesses the curious ability to resist its viewer’s attempts to establish its scale, morphing as one moves around and through the golden columns. We spoke to Lancelin to discuss the lack of surprise in our urban landscape, the luxury of time and how art shows its age.
For this collaborative project with La Prairie, you’ve noted that you were drawn to use golden spheres, partly because they represent “perfection and purity”. In a similar vein, you’ve expressed that your creative process is geared towards “Utopian projects”. I wonder whether after the difficult year that 2020 has been, does the notion of perfection feel like an unrealistic ideal to strive for, or do you believe that we live in the best possible of all worlds?
It’s important to establish that the notion of perfection characterises the work’s essence and not its value. Utopia is often defined as the ideal city, and potentially even the ideal society. Despite the very difficult year that we’re living through, I’m honing in on positive elements such as the accelerated development of virtual spaces and augmented reality. These digital spaces will only continue to grow as they undergo a sort of urbanisation. Of course, at the present moment, we can choose to adopt a nostalgic view of the past, but we are also at a moment where we can reconfigure our future.
I was intrigued to learn that the more artistic experience you gain the easier you find your creative endeavours. Are you finding your recent projects less rewarding as the process of creation becomes progressively less challenging?
My creative process can be split into two facets—digital and real. With that said, the two are certainly not mutually exclusive, I tend to push the boundaries of convergence between the two. Whilst there are no constructive barriers in the digital world, it must be possible to replicate all my digital creations in reality. Ultimately, the message of the image interests me more than its construction. As I gain experience in implementing physical structures I can increase the complexity of my projects.
I like to watch the public interact with the work as well as the images they create through their photography. The work is above all, dialogical.
You’ve noted that part of the appeal of public space is in the freedom of time it affords its visitors. In your view, is time life’s greatest luxury?
Absolutely! In outdoor spaces, my work is confronted with the daily cycle of sunlight and therefore is even more affected by the passing of time. I also enjoy the notion that there can be a shared experience of my work.
Do you think that the value and appreciation placed on public installations has risen in a time where lockdown measures have shuttered the doors of many galleries around the world?
Art is being shared exponentially: collectors now show their sculptures in parks or via foundations and images are circulated online from private collections. Public installations have gained increasing importance because everyone can experience them and create their own art by taking photos. The public becomes an essential actor in the creative potential of the artwork. Whilst gallery doors are closed, they’ve become increasingly visible in the digital world. We mustn’t forget that public space is both in reality but also in the virtual.
For artists like yourself who actively acknowledge the role of audience engagement in your work, you inevitably have to give up a degree of control to let the viewer establish their methods of engagement. Would it be fair to say that such artists are public servants, or are artists allowed to prescribe how their audience engages with their work?
I feel like an artist who in turn becomes a spectator whilst the audience becomes the artist. I like to watch the public interact with the work as well as the images they create through their photography. The work is above all, dialogical.
You’ve pointed out that “our current urban landscape lacks surprise” and your installations are, in some ways, a response to this syndrome of metropolis mundanity. With that said, I would argue that architecturally, Paris posits an exception to this rule. What motivated the decision to install ‘219 Spheres’ in Paris?
The work interacts with its close environment. The yellow stone of the Parisian facades that surround it adds warmth to the spheres’ reflections. This helps form the basis for a metaphorical script which the audience will then riff off. Paris beholds an external perception of timelessness and is a city that many fantasise over—it’s an ideal setting for a kinetic experience!
This particular collaboration with La Prairie incorporates the metaphor of their golden caviar beads from the popular Skin Caviar Liquid Lift Serum. Given how much emphasis the beauty industry places on ensuring that its customers age well, I was wondering whether a collaboration like this prompts you to pay greater consideration to how an artwork ages?
As in the field of beauty, rituals must be performed to preserve a work of art. There are obvious ageing factors like sun, wind, rain and pollution for which specific remedies must be found to ensure self-preservation. This has prompted me to study the ageing of materials in more detail. As an artist, a voluntary decision may be made to broaden the notion of time on artwork.
This article originally appeared in SLEEK #67, which is available now both in print and digital editions.
Credits
All images by Johannes Bauer