INTRODUCTION

to the interview of Claude Lazar by Francis Parent

Claude Lazar could probably have been a great film maker as he knows how to put together unforgettable scenes. Just like Marcel Carné did so well in Le jour se lève, which the film critic André Bazin described as a “tragedy of innocence and loneliness”.

Claude Lazar could also certainly have been a great director of photography, leaving to posterity the images of faces carved out by light, as Curt Courant did with Arletty, Jouvet and many others.  

Very probably, he could have been a great decorator like Alexander Trauner, reconstructing the interior or the exterior sets, overflowing with hidden lives.

And of course, he obviously could have been a writer, a narrator, of dark intrigues like those of Dashiell Hammett, or of cold subjective stories like those of Henry Miller. But fortunately, Claude Lazar was none of these, because today, as “a painter”, he is all them at the same time!
Indeed, each one of his works contains (for those who know how to look …!) all the stories, all the possible scenarios; the lights are distributed in an almost scientific way; the subject matter, in general of a nonhuman nature, overflows with Humanity. Each painting of Claude Lazar is not only like a window opening onto the “outside”, but also like one looking into our own "interior”.  

To learn more, we have asked the artist, who describes himself as a Figurative subjective.

Interview of Claude Lazar

by Francis Parent

Very often in your pictorial work, the backgrounds are vague and the foregrounds are clear.
Is this kind of relationship with the photographic technique desired?     

At the beginning of the 20th century certain painters moved away from figurative painting because they thought that photography was going to supersede their work. They then turned to abstractionism.  I belong to those who, like Warhol, Hopper and the American Hyperrealists, understood that photography could, on the contrary, enrich their painting. But I am not satisfied with the static image of a photograph. Rather I work on a type of image that I would describe as filmique. I find it indeed more elaborate because it adds a narrative element and a more temporal space to the pictorial work.

Thus, I started from certain technical and graphic aspects of the cinematographic image, such as the macro vision or depth of field, to adapt them to painting. The effect of  “The clear foreground standing out from the vague background” has particularly interested me, leading me to develop this spectacular effect in various situations.  That is why, after several attempts, like the painting entitled Mise au point, I at long last and logically chose the representation of the objet fenêtre.

In addition to the well-known metaphorical significance of the window (Leonardo da Vinci had early on compared a painting to pariete di vitro!); this theme gave me the opportunity of studying the opposition between vague and clear in a very detailed way. It allowed me to pictorially treat the innumerable aspects of this opposition. The spectator, placed in front of one of these paintings, (hence in front of a window pane which physically represents the separation between the  inside and the outside), finds himself or herself immersed in a contemplative position looking out into a far off world, pale and ephemeral, stimulating many thoughts and dreams.    


What is the motive for always choosing to have present in your painting either an intense obscurity, or an extreme luminosity, whether electric or natural in origin?

One day, at the end of the Nineteen Seventies, I was leaving my atelier located in a nearby Parisian suburb, as I often do in the twilight of the evening. I was a little disenchanted and preoccupied by my aesthetic questionings of the day. I was taken back by an extraordinary sight:  the sky was ink black; the city plunged into a bluish and mysterious darkness. The top floors of some buildings were struck by the bright rays of the setting sun which managed to pierce the thick clouds of the storm.  

Eureka! This extraordinary contrast had just given me the solution in the form of a completely personal theorem. And it continues with me still today: “no matter what the subject is that is being represented, light is an essential element to highlight it”.

From this moment on, I haven't ceased “to trap” light in the most diverse kinds of spaces, interiors, exteriors, objects, characters…, none of which escape the rule that I imposed on myself. Shadows and lights entered into a merciless battle where only “the Painting” was to be victorious!

A street in daytime is of no interest, whereas at night, darkness brings out all its mysteries. Street lamps can reveal ghostly forms; partial shadows can dissimulate serious threats, etc. Through these suggested self-interpretations, different kinds of narrations, “scenarios”, become possible in the eyes and mind of the onlooker.  

Of course, I do not claim to have invented the clair-obscur. And artists such as Georges De La Tour will remain forever the geniuses. But they obtained this specific contrast primarily thanks to the warm light of a candle. Today, though it took me a long time to master, I am able to obtain it with a governing cold light. In fact, from this point of view, there were not any precedents, since I use “cold” tones, primarily blue, in order to achieve a really contemporary atmosphere, which for me, is obviously closer to the roman noir or film noir, than to the sensitivity of the “Classical" period…


Is the city therefore your subject of predilection?   

I think that an artist is inspired initially by the social environment which surrounds him. I have always lived in a large city, so it is logical that my questionings and my centers of interest revolve around this setting. But I am not a painter who works “on the spot” like the impressionists who set up their easels outdoors in order to hastily transcribe their “impressions" that nature provoked in them.

However, this urban framework not only interests me in its simple representation, but also and more particularly, in the emotion it gives thanks to the richness of its past, its cultural references, in particular cinematographic and literary. Thus, when I paint a street, a coffee shop or a train station, I think about my work not only in terms as “a painter” but also as “film maker”, keeping in mind the marvelous scenes of Jean Renoir, Hitchcock, Antonioni, etc, or as “a literary man” with extracts of interior narratives from the superb texts of Miller, Hammett or  Philippe Djian…


But then, where do you get the desire to paint a chair, an unmade bed, or a bathroom…?  

During many centuries painting was initially a “Witness of its time”, with the duty to represent Man, History, or Religion. After which, painting became free to explore other fields, transgress the taboos of aesthetic codes, break the “rules” of beauty, etc, etc. For my part, I think that everything is beautiful; you simply have to learn how to look!  When I paint an unspecified door or staircase, they are for me “subjects” of an art work like any other subject. Consequently, I was told that through living with a painting representing a window, one of my collectors started seeing his windows as works of art! I believe that if an artist, through his work, is interested in an object, in a location, these take on another dimension, (let's not forget the “Urinal” or the “Bottle Carrier” of Marcel Duchamp!) and to a certain extent, this also allows us to changer la vie!


There are very few characters in your paintings and they are almost always seen from behind. Why is that?

In the history of painting, the human figure has always been largely represented, whether it is in the portraits of important personages, ancient subjects, biblical etc….My painting approaches other registers which are much closer to intimate and private lives. Important characters, in this sense, cannot really find their place. And if sometimes, exceptionally, a woman appears, it is more as an evocation of the female presence, than a representation of a particular person. That is why I paint her from the back, against the light of day: so as to make her as neutral as possible!  And moreover, since the viewer is necessarily positioned like the model, they are both looking in the same direction together, and this becomes an invitation to see beyond the painting…!


What is the motivating factor for your choice of a subject?  

I do not wait for a sudden inspiration. I would like to break the commonplace image which represents an artist suddenly awakening in the middle of the night to paint like a fool. It is certainly a romantic representation, but grotesque, and it is very far from the reality lived by the majority of artists!  La pittura e cosa mental” said Leonardo da Vinci: painting is a “thing of thought”; therefore it is a reflection on Man, his life, his times. A painting can give meaning and it can sometimes change the world!

I do not pick a subject randomly during a walk. The theme is well thought out, worked on, modeled, and transformed…, until it suits me perfectly.

When I prepare a series of paintings, I act a little like a writer or a movie director. I put together the overall framework of the subject. I write. I do research. I get information through various means: books, films and other media. I then go and seek out the “theatre of operations”: places, environments and the situations that best reflect my project. I take photographs and make sketches which I annotate. After that, I do more elaborate drawings adding some color and sometimes I even paint some small detailed studies. This work will serve as a basis for me to create the "real" paintings. Thus, I develop the subject in all its facets, i.e. I represent it in various manners, and the very least detail which tends to modify or improve it,  is justification enough for me to do a new version.

I only stop working on a theme when I feel that I have exhausted all the meanings from it. Take for example the last series of paintings that I did on the topic of “the city”. My research on this subject initially led me to eliminate places which were not appropriate, avenues that were too recognizable, historical buildings, luxurious buildings etc….I finally selected suburban streets with small shops and diverse buildings that weren't too high and didn't block out all of the sky. Streets that still had electric poles and wires and a few lamp posts.

The most favorable moment is in middle of the night, in order to avoid pedestrians and traffic which would encumber the landscape. And which would also break the atmosphere of apparent tranquility and its “frightening strangeness” as Freud would say. The very top moment is after the rain! Water emphasizes contrasts, intensifies black tones, and brings out the light. Reflections stretch their vertical lines and the unevenness of the land becomes particularly graphic. Once arrived at this stage of representation, the painting is almost finished…


In the same line of questioning, what made you decide to paint empty apartments?   

Since my childhood I have experienced moving many times, and fortunately, they were to improve our living conditions. When you leave a place, you turn back one last time to examine the walls, perceiving the traces of an entire life, and then you close the door on your past.

But it is also a door which opens a new life to you. It opens your eyes wide to better apprehend a new, for now, empty shell of a dubious future. I believe that almost everyone has at one time or another felt this. It belongs to the collective memory. And to pass it on through painting is also a way to express, in the name of others, these subtle and deep feelings, isn't it?


It is in any case for me, and that is how I personally experience your painting!
A few moments ago you spoke about an "almost finished" painting; how do you judge that a painting is “really" finished?   

For me, to create a painting is a project in and of itself; a little like an architectural creation. The idea is worked out gradually with a very precise goal in mind. I do not paint with my instinct but with my conscience. Initially, of course, I have in my head a virtual design, but nevertheless enough specifics for my anticipated result. My work consists then in totally carrying out the project. At a certain moment, I manage to reach my goal. I remain in front of the painting for a long moment, scanning, looking for the littlest incomplete or erroneous detail. When the desire finally comes for me to sign the painting, I know that in this instant, I “really” achieved my goal!


And what is it that motivates you to pass from one subject to another?  

The choice of my subjects is simplified by the fact that the overall theme of my thoughts is registered, as I have said, in a well defined framework: urban space.  Therefore, what remains to be done is to review the elements which make it up, and of course follow one's desire to lean towards this or that element. Sometimes, I let myself be guided by chance, which, in an apparently uncontrolled way (chance is “objective”, said André Breton), can wake up the pleasure of representing one of those.

On this subject, I would like to quote a precise example. In the Nineteen Eighties, at a time when I was depicting the perspective of the streets, I felt that I had exhausted the topic with the buildings shrinking and disappearing in the distance of my paintings. Then, one day, during that same period of time, while I was stuck in a traffic jam, I glanced all around me to kill time. On one side, my attention was drawn to a decrepit front of shop, encumbered by electrical wires, framed by two gutters with rusted fittings. The painting was peeling off the façade from the wear of time, with old colored layers showing through. Pieces of torn posters covered the surface like many haphazard brush stokes of paint. A yellowish light above lit the whole front making ghostly shadows. I framed this vision with my finger on the foggy car window, like I would have done for a grandiose work of art. There I had the subject of several years of work!


In the representations of towns, one believes to recognize Paris, without being certain; is this deliberate?

If that is the sentiment that the viewer has, than I am happy, because that was my intention. Paris is the city that surrounds me, that I love and that I know perfectly. Since I have moved many times in Paris, I have gotten to live in many districts of the capital. But just the same, I do not seek to represent it in the way Caillebotte, Utrillo and many others did. For me, I eliminate everything that is too recognizable, superfluous, or “is too popularly degraded”. Thus, I will never paint the Eiffel tower or the Montmartre basilica high above the roof tops!  

What I am especially seeking, it is to draw out the "essence" of The city, to reconstruct it only in a global feeling, without referring to any place in particular. I removed all of the explicit signs such as the street names, shop names, etc. Everything that disturbs me, I made disappear. Especially elements that don't bring anything to my narration: cars, characters, billboards, urban signs, buildings that are too recent, too original or too middle-class. The city that I paint is not the one which exists, but the one which I would like to appear in our mind when we close our eyes and we think about it.


As a conclusion. For you, is painting work or a leisure activity?

I do not remember ever earning a living other than with my brush. To do so, painting has always been present in my daily life. But is it necessary to speak about “work” when one speaks of painting? Wouldn't the term of "leisure" be more suitable? The fact is that for me, the concept of work/leisure in painting is inseparable!

Sometimes, it happens that I feel like taking a sabbatical day at home; but after reading some newspapers, watching one or two movies, I get so bored that in no time I'm back in front of my easel again! Moreover, when I go on holidays, to make sure that they are a success, I never forget to take with me some white canvases and some painting equipment in order to make my days as pleasant as possible!

Therefore, I don't know if I should answer your question by saying that I work all the time, or on the contrary, that I have fun all the time…!!!

Résumé

Francis Parent is a French art critic, member of the AICA (International Association of Art Critics). He is a Professor of Art History and is a frequent lecturer as well as a curator of numerous individual and collective exhibits in various museums, public places, and private galleries in France and abroad (USA, Europe, Africa, United Arab Emirates).

One of the exhibits he organized in France traveled to 6 different museums. It was called Les Figurations, des années 60 à nos jours, and regrouped 90 known artists including Claude Lazar.

Mr. Parent has collaborated with many different art revues. He was the Assistant Director of the ARTENSION, Chief Editor of ANCRAGE, and Director of INTERVENTION.

Francis Parent is the author of several biographies and art books and has collaborated in writing the Dictionnaire de l’Art moderne et contemporain  edited by Hazan; the Histoire de la Jeune Peinture, 1950-1983,  JP Editions; and Entendre l’Ecrit, EC Editions; among others.

Francis Parent, who is always on top of today's trends and technical progress, is currently Artistic Advisor for the international web search engine Artrinet.