This residency was a step aside from my craft practice and allowed me to see that I could express myself differently and get closer to artists.

Entrepreneur in the renovation of old buildings since 2013, you specialize in raw earth architecture. How did you become interested in this field?

During my architecture studies, I discovered a book that was hidden in the library of my school in Saint-Étienne and it was a revelation. While we were being told about concrete and steel, I saw that it was possible to build with earth and decided to go to Grenoble, where we were learning about raw earth. It became a passion and I specialized in raw earth architecture after graduating. At the same time, I realized that I lived in a region where there was a lot of raw earth. So I set up my own masonry business, because I would have been frustrated if I'd only designed and built myself. For me, it's essential to decompartmentalize the fields of realization and design.

Winner of the Villa Kujoyama in 2020, you carried out a residency around the search for a "perfect gesture" between French practices and Japanese craftsmanship. What were the main stages of this residency?

When I started learning about earthen construction, there were Japanese people at festivals (Grains d'Isère) and I was able to discover their practices. It was so inspiring that I kept in touch with some of the craftsmen and decided to apply for the Villa Kujoyama residency. There really is a specific gesture among raw-earth plasterers, the sakan, which is very impressive in Japan. When we start our practice, we act by mimicry, but then I realized that I couldn't reproduce this gesture, which annoyed and fascinated me at the same time. In Japan, there's a quest for perfection, a desire to push things to the extreme. The first major stage of the residency was to acclimatize: I had to set up an area where I could practice, then renew contact with craftsmen I'd met on a previous trip. I wanted to find them again, invite them to the Villa or meet them elsewhere. I also discovered Kyoto, where there's a lot to learn through pure observation. I'm self-taught, I like to observe, and the fact that I don't speak Japanese wasn't very difficult for me, because I think you can communicate in other ways. It was very interesting, but also psychologically demanding to adapt and digest all this information. Those four months went by very quickly.

My raw earth siding concept is a modular system of wooden frames into which raw earth is plastered over a lath to create a natural wall surface, rich in hues and textures.

Do you have any vivid memories of this residency to share, any discoveries or encounters that have furthered your work?

This residency was a step aside from my artisan practice and allowed me to see that I could express myself differently and get closer to artists. In particular, I collaborated with Yuko Oshima and Krikor Kouchian, professional musicians and improvisers, with whom I created a performance, in which I metamorphosed the raw earth as building material while they transformed the sounds that came from tools and elements such as the sound of water and friction. It was a first for me to be able to collaborate, to talk about clay in a different way and to shed light on know-how. It allowed me to step back from my work in France. Moving forward in this way really reinforced my belief that spontaneity is an essential component in my creative work.

At the end of this residency, you created the piece Tsuchi To Kami, in collaboration with Céline Wright, also a Villa Kujoyama winner. Can you tell us more about your collaboration?

The piece is called Tsuchi To Kami - Tsuchi means earth and Kami, paper - and it's part of my Parementerre series, an idea I had before the Villa and developed after this Japanese experience. My raw-earth cladding concept is a modular system of wooden frames into which raw earth is plastered over a lath to create a natural wall surface, rich in hues and textures. I was looking to collaborate with designers who shared the same materials ethic and could integrate their pieces into the layout. That's how I came to think of Céline Wright, whom I met in Kyoto, who spontaneously agreed.

Céline proposed a piece that we then both agreed on, but which we thought about from a distance. She took care of the lighting part and I, the earth and facing part. Today, we're pursuing further research, where earth and paper are more intertwined and less independent of each other.

With Céline Wright, we have different characters, backgrounds and vision of things, but a real connection. This makes us want to continue proposing other coherent pieces (...).

Tsuchi To Kami will be exhibited at the Biennale Emergences from April 10 to 13, 2025 in Pantin. What does this spotlight on your piece represent?

This Biennale is an opportunity to show our work together, with Céline. It's very interesting because we have different characters, backgrounds and visions of things, but a real connection. It makes us want to continue proposing other coherent pieces, because there's an ecological and creative approach, an opposition between massiveness and lightness, which allows us to foresee an enormous number of things to do. I continue to work with Céline because it's a pleasure to do so, and the notion of pleasure at work is a goal that's sometimes difficult to achieve. She has a more effective vision of the market and sales than I do. She teaches me a lot and has this role of godmother, which she holds spontaneously and generously.

Do you have any new projects in the pipeline?

For the moment, I'm on the development phase of my facings with the prospect of other shows, but also the communication phase. I'd like to multiply my collaborations with other designers, and I've talked about it with Villa Kujoyama prizewinners, but everything takes time. With experience, I'm no longer waiting for the immediate now: people have other calendars and, one day, we'll meet. I sow seeds and connections are made. After that, there's a maturation period to be respected. I also have a documentary project on Japanese coaters: I'm well advanced and looking for a producer. It's a very interesting project, again based on the decompartmentalization of disciplines, mixing the technical side of the plasterers with the viewpoint of artists who come to perform on the building sites. I hope this work comes to fruition, but the search for funding is an energy-consuming adventure!