8 Questions with Nicolas Vionnet
Nicolas Vionnet is a Swiss artist, lives and works in the Zurich metropolitan area. Featured in the ORIGINAL issue magazine. He studied at the Academy of Art and Design in Basel. In 2009 he graduated from the Bauhaus-University Weimar with a Master’s degree in Public Art and New Artistic Strategies.
Nicolas Vionnet is rooted in painting. His chiefly large-scale works play with space and expanse. Although almost always realistic, his paintings have more in common with abstract images than real landscapes. He paints disruptive strips across his clouds and allows colored surfaces to drip down the canvas by gravity laws.
Vionnet is fascinated by such irritations: interventions that approach and create a non-hierarchical dialogue with the environment. This discussion opens up a field of tension, which allows the viewer an intensive glimpse of both these phenomena. Vionnet uses the same approach and the same strategy for his installations and objects. Irritation and integration. A fundamental confrontation with the history of a place leads to a subtle and more precise intervention of the object. Take, for example, his human-made grass island at the Weimarhallen Park (Weimar, DE), which ironically intensified the park’s artificiality. In ‘Close the Gap’ (Leipzig, DE), he bridged the space between an old-town row of houses with a printed canvas image of the now much frowned upon a prefabricated building. A reference to changes in time and aesthetics.
Nicolas Vionnet Extensive exhibition vita, such as 5th Odessa Biennale of Contemporary Art (UA), 4th Aarhus Biennial Exhibition Sculpture by the Sea (DK), III Moscow International Biennale for Young Art (RU), The Wilson - Cheltenham Art Gallery and Museum (GB), Städtische Galerie Kubus Hannover (DE), Alpines Museum der Schweiz Bern (CH).
What kind of education or training helped you develop your skillset?
I completed my education at the Academy of Art and Design in Basel (Switzerland) as well as at the Bauhaus University in Weimar (Germany). Especially the training in Weimar had a powerful influence on me and guided my work in entirely new directions.
My roots lie in painting; this medium was always essential and present in all of my early works. Looking back, however, I also see a lot of repetition in these pieces. I always found it very difficult to reinvent myself and to break new ground. In Weimar, I began to deal with site-specific interventions in public spaces. The whole approach of how I dealt with a theme changed completely. The medium suddenly no longer stood in the foreground. Instead, in my research, I consistently started from the location itself. What kind of story does a place have, what function does it have in everyday life, and how do people use it?
These and similar questions led me to have no idea what materials I would eventually be working with at the beginning of a project. So I sometimes surprised myself and created works that were almost alien to me; this was a refreshing experience.
How would you define yourself as an artist?
As mentioned at the beginning, I am rooted in painting, but nowadays, I work almost exclusively on installations and objects.
I see myself as an artist who works strongly site-specific and tries to break and deceive his usual approach consciously. Often my work also has a conceptual approach, which means that the meaning of a work can be much more important than the quality of its execution. I like works that move at the threshold between art and non-art. I love it when the viewer is irritated and confused - because everything we don't understand forces us to take a closer look.
Your installations deal with the history's confrontation in a specific place, a space that leads you to a subtle and precise intervention of the object. How do you create interaction between the objects you use that are most of the time not a much with the space in the standard bases?
When I start with a site-specific work in public space, I often have no idea what materials I would eventually be working with and what the work might look like in the end. I always start simple and try to find out more about the place. On the one hand, by doing research, e.g., in the library or the city archive, but also by talking to people who are familiar with the city and can tell me more about it. During this phase, I often stumble overexciting topics and aspects that I can follow up with. Thus, my work usually has a plain meaning, and people who know their city also understand the work.
A brief example: In Zurich, I set up a telescope in the middle of a historic square (St. Peterhofstatt, 2013). Normally, you only see such telescopes at viewpoints, but not on a square in the middle of a city. But people immediately took advantage of this special and irritating situation - most of them used the telescope and examined the old lime tree as if under a microscope. This last piece of nature on this square, the tree, became more important for the people again. Behind the telescope was the church St. Peter. And that was my historical reference. From this church tower, back in the days, the so-called fire guards used to monitor the town and set off an alarm in case of fire.
What was the creative process for your piece "SuperMax" and what did you learn from its production?
I often browse my sculptures and objects through charity shops and antique stores and mostly buy things that I like at first sight. Often it is old or antique objects that fascinate me in terms of design, form, and processing. Mostly I have no idea what to do with them at this moment.
It was also the case with "SuperMax." I saw this old vacuum cleaner and thought it was just beautiful. In the studio, I had the idea to replace the existing bristles with longer hair. Bristles are a kind of hair, an idea that is not far fetched yet. In the next step, I bought different wigs and tested the visual effect. Finally, I decided to use a blonde wig for women. I find the narrative aspect of this work fascinating - you see it, and it triggers something in you. The viewer is automatically immersed in his own story.
The creation of the work shows me that it sometimes needs patience. Often my bought antiques lie around in the studio for years without me having a good idea. And suddenly it is there, and work is created.
How did the idea for "C'era una volta il West" come about?
The idea of the work is linked to a childhood memory. I already liked these flute kettles as a child and somehow found them incredibly funny. I always found it surprising that the kettles do not just give off a simple acoustic signal but produce very individual sounds... as if they are singing. When I had the idea to do work with flute kettles two years ago, I was especially interested in the fusion of the sounds. It immediately reminded me of a dialogue. Like a conversation between two people, there are moments where the dialogue is harmonious, but also moments where a tension suddenly may arise. This is precisely the point that still fascinates me today. The dialogue of the two flute kettles always sounds different, depending on the water level and temperature of the hotplates.
By the way, the title "C'era una volta il West" refers to the original title of the western movie "Once Upon a Time in the West". Two cowboys are facing each other...the tension, the calm, and the uncertainty of what might happen next.
What are you working on now? Anything exciting you can tell us about?
I am currently working increasingly on smaller objects and installations. In contrast to the installations in public space, these works are not site-specific and can be shown in a typical gallery space.
A few months ago, I also felt a great desire to paint again, and so I started a new series. The large-format works are done in black and white and deal with the depiction of fabrics and draperies. In doing so, I try to create works that move in a field of tension between folds and patterns. Two themes that are quite contrary to each other are the wrinkles create three-dimensionality creating a surface by their contraction and convexity. Conversely, the flatness of the pattern shows a tendency to negate the space to the surface. In addition to the visual language, however, the conceptual approach is almost even more important. The canvas is worked in an unmounted state; the fabric is folded and treated with paint. Only after stretching the canvas does the actual effect become visible.
Do you have any upcoming shows or collaborations you are looking forward to?
As with many artists, some projects were canceled or postponed. Nevertheless, there were, fortunately, some events that could be carried out. One of my objects were shown at the online exhibition "EXH 03", a beautifully curated group exhibition by Floorr Magazine London. A large group exhibition entitled "Alles im grünen Bereich" ("Everything within the green range") is running in Winterthur near Zurich at the Galerie Weiertal until September 13. The gallery is embedded in a beautiful park and shows mainly works in the outdoor area. In the context of this exhibition, I am showing an intervention with a water-animal-repellent. Depending on the way through the exhibition area, the visitor triggers the system by a motion sensor...everything else you can probably imagine (laughing).
I am looking forward to my first solo exhibition in Berlin at BBA Gallery. Depending on the further course of the pandemic, it will take place in late 2020 or early 2021. I am also already in the process of preparing this show.
Nicolas, Share something you would like the world to know about you?
I hope that many artists will master this exceptional and very unusual situation all right and maybe through the crisis find even closer to their work. For me, the work can be seen as a good friend: you can rely on it and know that it is always there for you.