Translator: Matt Leedham Reviewer: Claire Ghyselen
(Music)
(Voice-over) Hey, you, what are you doing to that wall?
(Cheering) (Applause) (Whistling)
Wow!
What a fright!
(Out of breath) Right, let me cool down a bit.
This type of thing has happened to me so many times before,
being chased after or inspected by the police.
(Sighs)
It even happened to me in New York - it was in 1999
the holy land of graffiti, what a privilege!
But mayor Rudy Giuliani happened.
Everyone knows him, he has brought in a zero-tolerance policy.
So, I'm in Manhattan, a street just off-Broadway.
The street is quiet.
My mate is behind me keeping watch making sure everything is OK.
There is just a guy sat down on some steps.
I get my spray cans out like normal.
I start ...
All of a sudden, I'm in an armlock handcuffs, being insulted.
Actually, the guy on the steps was an undercover cop.
(Laughter)
How unlucky!
He takes me to the police station.
I am kept on file and photographed like a criminal.
I'm thrown together in a cell with about fifty or so others ...
(Sighs)
A really horrible cell, where you can't even lie down,
with cockroaches crawling everywhere,
and just one loo in the middle -- it's going to be cozy!
I spent 30 hours there.
There's one public defender for all of us,
so it's a fight to see who will go first.
When my turn comes, he tells me that this isn't going to be easy,
because they haven't been able to find the owner of the wall
and that in the US, you can't leave until the trial takes place.
So, there you go.
He notices my desperation,
and very professionally, takes time out of his lunch break
to inspect the wall, and realise that, in fact,
the wall was already covered with graffiti and posters.
He manages to convince the prosecutor to let me go.
I would leave with a 500-dollar fine,
as long as I promised not to set foot on American soil.
I had forgotten about my stubbornness
because I came back in 2006 and 2007,
after a gallery invited me to display some work,
meanwhile, I would once again go into the street to drive out my fear.
(Applause)
Thank you.
So, I go back to the street but this time a bit more cleverly.
In fact, everything started when I was 16,
in 1989, on the French island of Reunion
far from the New York bustle, of course,
a little village, not yet very built-up.
And I design ...
a magnificent masterpiece, under a bridge, that I entitle "Wall".
Looking back ...
(Laughter)
It wasn't so much the artwork which interested me,
rather, it was crossing the line, the line of law-breaking.
I had been so sensible and disciplined as a teenager.
But at a certain point, I moved onto another level.
I assure you, I didn't mug or rape anyone,
it was just a painting on a wall, nothing serious in the end.
That's what intrigued me, and I soon realised
that my aim wasn't to destroy or damage property,
but, the opposite, to decorate them, to add colour and cheerfulness.
Actually, everything started with this book.
It was again in 1989.
This book, it's sort of a bible for any decent graffiti artist.
It was the first book to come out focusing on New York graffiti.
At the time, from my quiet, provincial perspective,
I fantasised about characters like Blade, Seen, Quik,
who hang around train depots
and spray entire carriages, openly defying the authorities.
So, I tell myself: "To be like them, I'm going to have to find a nickname,
because in Reunion, if I sign with my name I will soon be caught".
(Laughter)
So I think about it, I make an anagram with my initials
using my surname and my several different first names,
I happen to get J, A, C, and E,
the "Jace" that you all know,
which Patrice later replaces with "Jasse".
So, that's me, at that point.
Then, at 17, having finished high school, I went to the capital,
Saint-Denis.
(Laughter)
Don't laugh! It's the capital!
(Laughter)
A new avenue opens up to me, crucially, independence:
being able to go out and come home when I want.
In those days, either I went out alone or with my "accomplices" of the time
Tosh, Otto, Richie, Pop, as a crew.
And so we went leaving tags here, there and everywhere on the roads.
In terms of material, I picked it up when I went decorating in shops and bars,
so I didn't buy anything.
The good life, eh!
Then, after two or three years of writing my name everywhere,
I started to feel a certain sense of weariness
and I also felt ... how can I say it ...
Like a nobody among other no-name graffers.
Graffiti went viral in Reunion.
You started to see paintings more or less everywhere,
I felt like I was thrown together with the masses.
Now, the idea was to go further,
break the limits, find a stronger identity,
find something that people can identify instantly.
Now, it's 1992, and that's when the "gouzou" appeared,
the "gouzou" that you might know.
That, that was the period, a bit before, apologies,
when I wanted to be an underground tube artist but there were only old buses.
(Laughter)
There you go, that's the "gouzou".
(Applause)
That's the first official one.
By the way, from the first one, I entitled it: "Call us gouzou."
Then, I started to hang around the streets a little
and try to reflect more on the medium:
not just use any ordinary wall, rather try to engage
and have a slightly more artistic process,
and a little more respect for the chosen surface of my paintings.
Then, in 1993, I went to mainland France to continue my education.
So, having passed two years at university, I went to France
in search of new horizons,
to travel, to meet people, to share with other artists too.
And I have dozens, even hundreds of stories
that sadly, I don't have time to share with you.
But anyway, I keep going.
I don't experience the monotony of the workshop
because the street is my workshop, and every time I go out it's different.
I go out at night, in the day, whether it's windy or raining.
Nothing or no one could stop me from going out expressing myself.
Speaking of which, the army try to call me up
because I finished with studying, but at some point I had to.
I find a way of doing responsible graffiti
in an association on civvy street, so I got by like that.
(Laughter)
I only just scraped through my bachelor's.
I didn't have the same talent as the students who continued on to do PhDs.
Proud of all this success, I go back to Reunion, with a swagger, saying:
"That's it, I am going to make a living from painting in Reunion."
It was quite an ambitious project, I took a few knocks,
but I didn't get discouraged.
In 2000,
Sophie, from the gallery Arsenic in the district Étang Salé
hosts me at the gallery to put on an exhibition
and insists that I apply for funding from the French cultural affairs agency.
Well, I was a bit hesitant, but she was so insistent that I did it.
In the end, with hindsight, it wasn't a very good idea
because, firstly, when I was interviewed, they had lost my application,
and secondly, I was humiliated,
"You don't seriously want us to pay you
for 'spray-painting' some walls in the city?"
I left with my tail between my legs, but still just as motivated.
I said to myself: "Right, I'm going to prove to them that I'm better than this."
In 2004, I start a project working with a local council in the South of Reunion
who give me a 'carte blanche' in the city.
Incredible! For any graffiti artist it's a dream to hear the words:
"You have free rein in the city."
Except, the dream quickly became a nightmare
because, from my very first piece,
a guy came out of a building and started yelling at me,
and he ordered me to stop.
I tried to call my agent, but he had disappeared.
All of a sudden, he was out of town.
So, little by little, three days later, the wall had been wiped clean.
I said, "We've got a problem.
In years of doing this, it's never been removed before
and the day that I have official authorisation to spray a wall,
they go and wipe it off!" (Laughter)
There's surely something not right there!
(Applause)
It's no big deal, I leave it, and go back to doing what I love.
In 2007, you must all surely remember this,
the cyclone Gamede strikes the island ...
I must have missed a few photos, forgive me.
They were a few pieces -- there you go. (Laughter)
Very interesting, there it is.
Exactly, it must be this one.
So in 2007,
cyclone Gamede hits, destroying a part of the bridge at the river Saint-Etienne,
a very traumatic experience for the islanders, but me most of all,
because those of us living in the South were left trapped.
They started up some repair works.
The bridge stayed there, frozen, and no one touched it.
I said to myself: "It's a good spot, I have to do something."
Three days since they opened the little road which passed below,
I go out with a friend, carrying ladders and spray cans etc.
It's pretty late.
Unfortunately, the site was still being patrolled.
But we managed to slip through the net,
and we did what we had to for a good half an hour.
When we had just finished, we shone a torch to make sure we had everything,
and as we turned around,
there was a 4x4 bearing down on us to arrest us.
We dropped all the kit and jumped into the river.
We managed to get away, I lost everything,
but it's not too bad in the end.
I went back several days later.
I hadn't had the chance to mark
the footsteps of the chicken that ran on the bridge.
(Laughter)
There you go.
In 2009, after the town refused my request to tag
the butrress dam on the new Tamarins motorway,
I organised a hit squad made up of 14 people.
We went out at night, I spent 2,400 pounds on the material.
We set up a ladder, a telescopic pole,
and we got stuck into a wall 70m long
and 20m high, at its highest point.
We spent the night there.
It would make waves, a scandal, on the radio, in the papers.
Me, I kept a low profile.
And as I had already applied before asking for permission,
obviously the local leaders came to see me,
and they sent me a letter threatening to press charges.
I'll spare you the details.
In the end, the story ended well, thanks to them.
Some time later, I received a phone call:
"Mr Jace,
we are going to unveil the new bridge crossing the Saint-Étienne river,
and there's a pylon just next to it.
It's strange, you haven't done anything to it yet!"
(Laughter)
Right, then, I didn't know how to respond ...
(Laughter)
"How would you fancy drawing something on it?"
Well, yes, of course!
There's hardly anyone in this room who wouldn't have done the same.
So, I get a move on and do a good job of the project.
It was pretty successful with the public.
Thank you.
(Applause)
Thanks to this success,
I was recommended to do the entrance to Saint-Denis, on the coastal tunnel.
Despite all these official requests,
I am always keen to remain anonymous --
that's why I look a bit strange tonight with this get-up --
which always enables me to stay on the slightly illegal side
and to keep painting in the street freely.
And that's what keeps me feeling alive.
When I'm away, abroad,
no-one knows about Jace, or the "gouzous"
and I become vulnerable, like I was at the start, actually.
If I get carried away painting,
I am just an ordinary person and I'll get arrested.
It's exactly that adrenaline which keeps me engaged
which keeps me feeling alive after 25 years of doing graffiti.
Some months ago, I was arrested in France.
I won't say I like getting arrested, don't get me wrong.
Three young police officers approach, see me spraying and say:
"Sir, what are you doing? Do you do this often?"
"Well, yes, it's my job."
(Laughter)
And yet again, it ends well, thanks to them.
Excuse me, getting carried away has made me really thirsty.
Finally, you must have also heard
about an event that took place in the South,
when I had led an activity with a hearing-impaired group --
I didn't organize it, I was just a participant
to be able to paint two large frescos
with the permission and approval of the local council.
They had even ordered some filmmakers to record us, and all the rest of it.
Until then, everything is good.
And then, I was in Madagascar,
I was sent an email, or maybe I found out on social media
the wall had simply been washed clean by the "anti-graffiti service".
They'll never get it!
Once again, we have permission,
all my other walls stay as they are, and the one where I have permission ...
Well, in contrast to other times,
I received a letter from the person in charge who sincerely apologised,
and said that in the future, he would make sure that his team
could differentiate between graffiti from mural frescos.
(Laughter)
(Applause)
You would think that they might learn.
It's true that nowadays the media talks a lot about graffiti,
or about "street art", it sounds better.
Galleries and museums get hold of the idea.
Towns and cities set up public commissions.
It's just as well.
Still, the battle hasn't been completely won.
In the USA, last year, an artist called Revok,
who had a display in the Museum of Modern Art in Los Angeles,
was arrested at the same time, and sent to prison for six months.
In France recently, a Bulgarian called Boris was also detained,
for "inciting vandalism", he was given a four-month sentence.
The law says that if you are caught while tagging a wall,
it is a crime that lands you five years in prison and a 70k-pound fine.
In my case,
I live between two worlds of creation,
the legal and the underground.
However, I notice that in society,
the understanding of what is legal and what isn't
has really evolved in a positive way.
On that basis, if the gouzou was able to contribute to this process,
I would be happy.
In any case, I am sure about one thing: if I am here today,
and if the gouzou has so much success,
it's above all thanks to you, the public, so thank you.
(Applause)