Mathias Kiss
His Studio-Living Space: A Total Work of Art
“The more beautiful the place, the more you are a prisoner of it, the poorer it is, the more you can dress it up.”
After 3 years of work and finishing, Mathias Kiss opens the doors of his studio-living space, installed in an urban pavilion that contrasts with his former addresses in the historic Parisian districts. This space on 4 levels offers him the opportunity to fully express the extent of his practice, combining homage to the past and building the world to come: between a theatrical “master’s atelier” where his “Pieces of sky” canvases dialogue with a vast glass roof open to… the sky, a basement converted into a white cube that presents his latest exhibition-manifesto “Watch you Burn”, rooms invested by in-situ installations offering a fantasized vision of housing, an office space floating on a footbridge invaded by exotic plants and curiosities.
What does this “total” work of art (of living) symbolize in the journey of this self-taught man who was able to transform his troubles as a painter-worker from academic failure into fuel generating “national trophies” as evidenced by his latest creations for Christofle or the Ligue 1 football cup?

You welcome us in what we could typically call an “artist’s house”, in the tradition of these historic residences of painters or sculptors (from Rodin to Caillebotte), united today under the label of “Maisons des Illustres”. In other words, a place for both life and artistic work?
MATHIAS KISS:
What’s crazy is that originally, it was a house to live in daily. But I tend to escape the daily grind, like a child who locks himself in his room with his toys to escape the more “realistic” spaces of the house like the bathroom or the kitchen. Very quickly, the workspace took over that of the habitat. And then, I also consider it as a place of meetings and exchanges, in which we nourish ourselves.
Unlike these artists’ houses that separated the studio from the family living spaces, this environment seems totally integrated into your approach, a bit like a large still life where everything fits together: the works, the tools, the inspirations, the library, the archives, the personal memories. Ultimately, it looks more like a “total installation”, such as Donald Judd experienced in his New York building or his properties in Marfa? Besides, you are both close to each other in your minimalist “in-situ” approach.
MATHIAS KISS:
We all have in mind the image of his bed-installation, in which I completely identify. At home, if someone moves a square by 2 cm, it disturbs me, and I will put it back 2 cm. There is no point doing this, it is in my construction as an artist. But paradoxically, I no longer live there. This place is so invested by the art works that I refuse to disturb it with my dirty laundry. It’s like a painting, touching it means having to redo it, so I put it under a bell jar. And then I really need the box to be frozen so that I can build the world of tomorrow, create the new piece. My daughter will also tell you how much of a nightmare it is to stay there with the constant fear of damaging a work of art by letting a drop of water escape from the bathroom… It’s a precious place, which also expresses the idea of preservation, like a museum, a foundation.

When he invested in his New York building, Donald Judd saw it precisely as his future “foundation”…
MATHIAS KISS:
The last time I saw my therapist, I told her that I felt like I was working in a foundation. She replied: “Hey! You used the word “foundation,” and that’s what you didn’t have when you were a child.” It’s funny how we always look for what we lack in our deficiencies and neuroses.
Last allusion to Donald Judd, after I stop it: his installation was “permanent”. Once the ideal setting was found, it could not be touched. While your place seems to be in perpetual renewal.
MATHIAS KISS:
It’s like a cloud passing in the sky through a window, I always see the one coming behind. So I need to clear my head by transforming my place… Sometimes, neither my wife nor my relatives have time to see my experiments pass, a wall color for example, that I have already recovered. It’s a real laboratory.

Like your “masterpiece” completed during your apprenticeship with the Compagnons, do you consider this place to be a new masterpiece?
MATHIAS KISS:
Ah, absolutely. Of course, removing the pretentious or pompous side of the idea of a masterpiece, it is a form of accomplishment. It is even downright the evolution of a single profession that began at the age when I had to sand walls. Only, in my way of doing things, I was less into sanding than into polishing, sculpting or caressing a wall, the condition for obtaining a beautiful “blur” effect when applying paint. Ultimately, sanding is learning to enjoy the pains of everyday life: what you can’t avoid, you have to know how to embrace it. Even though I came from a background of academic failure, this practice was already a way for me to express something else. I had the ambition to create a whole universe.
At the same time, this is not your first living place/creation place. You had already radically transformed your private apartment on rue du Faubourg Saint-Denis and then this large studio located on Place des Vosges, “stylish” locations that contrast with this urban pavilion atmosphere.
MATHIAS KISS:
There is the candy and the candy wrapper. Here, we are talking about the box. My choice of places is also based on chance, on which I obviously bounce. What interests me is what I do there. Indeed, I rented a small apartment on rue du Faubourg Saint-Denis in a noble and loaded 18th century architecture. Starting from this neoclassical base, I pushed it into a Kubrickian spirit with cornices that come out of the walls, that go up and down to the ground. It was a way of twisting its neck while magnifying it, but above all of projecting it into the 21st century. Today, I turned the page on this “18th century” manifesto to invest in contemporary architecture. Yes, the tiling was awful and it resonated… But at the same time, it offered me carte blanche with another vocabulary. The more beautiful the place, the more you are a prisoner of it, the poorer it is, the more you can dress it up.

In this place where you feel accomplished, and then, through this installation “Watch you Burn” that you present in the white cube of your studio – and within which you manifest your critical point of view on the world -, we feel a discourse more detached from your practice, which has achieved greater freedom in the expression of your ideas.
MATHIAS KISS:
It is not necessarily linked to the place, but it is true that since I have been here, I have the impression of speaking out. Before, I was mainly in reaction against my “peers” (but also my “fathers” because I include the “daron” in the story). Coming from academic failure and faced with the dogmas imposed by the Compagnons, I was in rebellion, so I twisted the necks of the cornices, I crumpled the mirrors. Fortunately, I am 52 years old, I have calmed down. But thanks to these years of revolt, I have built a vocabulary with which I express myself freely today.
After 3 years of work and fitting out your studio, the installation “Watch You Burn” also gave you the opportunity to officially invite your artistic family…
MATHIAS KISS:
Indeed, it is finally finished with all my works in it. It’s as if I went on stage because I knew my text! Whereas before, I wasn’t ready. It was like a rebus, I was missing a drawing to finish it, and now, I know where I come from, I know where I’m going. It’s not easy for an artist to be able to understand himself, to know why this fucking unconscious tells you to do this or that, why instead of mountain biking on Sunday, you repaint your walls 14 times. I never conceptualize beforehand. I find the meaning later, thanks to my perspective, my childhood, my journey.

In a recent interview, you mentioned mentors like Andrée Putman or César. Artists whose territory is clearly assumed and identifiable by all.
MATHIAS KISS:
It’s funny, my son-in-law, when he saw the latest pieces made for Christofle, said to himself: that’s it, it’s the Kiss brand! After the cornice, the Ligue 1 trophy, my shapes are now recognizable. As for mentors, I think especially of Jean-Pierre Reynaud. With his use of white tiles, the most basic, the least precious, the least expressive material there is, he made it an incredible signature. That’s strong! And then on another level, I find myself very much in the trajectory of gallery owner Kamel Mennour. His father was a house painter. His gallery has become one of the most respected, but he has always managed to keep this democratizing approach to his profession. He was the one who freed me from my complexes in my relationship with art by allowing me to acquire, at the time, a series of Araki’s first Polaroids. At the same time, he considered me as one of his first collectors. I attach great importance to the intimacy of this bond.
I am bouncing back on these two achievements: your collection of candlesticks for Christofle and the trophy for the Ligue 1 football team. Your touch also resides in your ability to reconcile “noble” and “popular” cultures.
MATHIAS KISS:
Thank you for understanding this. I started as a painter-worker, then as a craftsman who manipulates materials such as gold leaf. Paradoxically, my job as an artist consisted of desacralizing the decorative arts. This involved creating golden cornices that “smurf” in all directions. I could have painted them in fluorescent yellow, it would have been the same thing. My use of gilding seeks more to free the worker than to claim mastery of an exceptional art. Today, making the Ligue 1 trophy is a way of offering a dream to all the little boys who, like me at the time, were looking for a model and symbols to identify with.

The people you brought together at your opening of “Watch You Burn” exhibition are also, through their profession, their career path, a representative panel of the world you have created for yourself?
MATHIAS KISS:
Yes, it’s true, with completely different universes: architects, journalists, musicians, workers. In any case, they are kind, gifted and sensitive people. We probably share the same spirit, quite childish. I think we have remained children.
With this ability to be able to open up to everyone, I think of figures like Nicolas Godin or Joey Starr.
MATHIAS KISS:
They are bosses for me, they have been there for 30 years. We are getting older, generations pass, but they remain references for young people. AIR, Nicolas Godin’s band, and more broadly the French Touch musical movement, corresponded to a very cutting-edge music at the beginning, which few people knew. Today it is a classic that closes the Olympic Games. The NTM band, without ever really falling into line, is now anchored in our heritage and our collective unconscious. From the beginning, I saw them as authors in their own right of the French cultural landscape. I had even created a street sign saying: “Joey Starr, French author-composer”, with a manifesto text that spoke of affiliation with Brassens or Gainsbourg, without mentioning rap or hip-hop.

As you say, as we get older, children grow up… I’ll take this opportunity to talk about your relationship with transmission. As with your installation “Watch you burn”, your speech seems less focused on the experience of your profession, and addresses deeper existential questions?
MATHIAS KISS:
Recently, I took my son to a sky construction site in Thailand. He is studying philosophy at the Sorbonne. Cut off from our daily lives, from our culture, we were able to fully become aware of the link between gesture and brain. One brings to the other. Painting is also meditative, there is a spiritual side. Not to mention the links with the values of sport, such as the taste for effort or results.

Watch You Burn, from February 13th to June 13th, by appointment only: mathiaskiss.com/work/exhibitions
Interview by David Herman
Photos: Matthieu Aubagnac


