His arrival in the tattoo culture at the time did not go unnoticed. Ridiculed, insulted, misunderstood, the artist Fuzi took pleasure in exploding traditional landmarks with his poorly made and crude drawings. He made it into a style, the Ignorant Style, the standard bearer of his typical vandalistic approach forged in the graffiti milieu from which he came. Almost two decades later, Fuzi somehow takes his revenge. Today he is recognized as a benchmark for a whole new generation of young self-taught tattoo artists. Artistically uninhibited, they deepen his radical and definitely emancipatory approach.
What was your take on tattoo culture when you started tattooing?
I think I got started in 2004, at the same time as I discovered other artistic disciplines on my own. At the time, I then "came out" of a period of over 15 years devoted solely to the practice of vandal graffiti. I was entangled in a kind of mental trap that enthusiasts know well and that left very little room for other artistic interests. When I open up to other means of expression, I experience an overwhelming need for information and activities to compensate. I devour art books and in the process I have a passion for tattooing and its history. I assume that nothing is impossible. I want to try my hand at everything, as an autodidact, to keep it fresh, as free as possible from outside influences. Very early on, a simple observation came to me: what I like about tattooing is the wild, rebellious, initiatory side that I did not see in the tattoo parlors of the time. It’s not my culture, nor my credentials. So I decide to do it my way. In the manner, practicing it in unusual places, but also in style, ignorant style. I never considered myself a tattoo artist. But on the other hand as an artist who uses the tattoo tool to express himself, just like painting, writing, photography, sculpture etc. That's why, from the start, I practiced tattooing like I did graffiti. I traveled, slept with friends, painted trains at night, and participated in "events" in which I tattooed, but often also where I exhibited my paintings, sold my t-shirts, etc. In small art galleries, spray paint shops, bookstores, fashion stores, etc. Otherwise I would invest in hotel rooms. I never went to tattoo parlors. My principle has always been to only tattoo my designs, with my style and never to reproduce the same tattoo twice. Each tattoo had to be unique.
What was your state of mind at the time?
The same as in graffiti: fuck everything, be the best, provoke and have fun. A strong competitive spirit animated me. So it was out of the question for me to follow the rules of learning etc. My goal was never to be accepted by the tattoo industry. It was about expressing myself and moving the lines. The reaction of some established tattoo artists confirmed my attitude, which could be considered arrogant, but which nevertheless hid a great passion for tattooing; the offering side of the skin, the tradition linked to all that. I have a deep respect for the person who comes to offer his skin. I realized early on in my practice that the moment was as important as the result, the tattoo, the pattern. I wanted to stage the experience to give it the importance it deserves. So tattooing in a subway tunnel, on the roof of a building, in a train, in an abandoned church, of course it was naturally linked to my lifestyle as a writer, but it was above all intended to sublimate this moment when you offer your skin to the artist who expresses himself. The people who lived these moments with me will never forget them. They will be forever inked in their skin as in their memory. We have lost the traditional meaning of tattooing, symbolic or ritual. Through these “performances” I put in value the moment, this one taking the top on the result. As in graffiti, where ultimately the most exciting is the quest. The result, which visually is never up to par, is a little less. The interest lies in the act, in the experience, in the lived. This is what I wanted to sublimate through this process.
Coming from graffiti, you arrived with very street codes, nourished by a rough experience inherited from the street, from violence. I imagine you recognized yourself naturally in some “cells” of the tattoo more than others.
I loved the gang tattoos visually and culturally, the thug stuff, the prison tattoos. But I also knew, that these are tattoos that have a strong meaning. They are linked to a rite of passage, to affiliations, to marks of glorification of certain facts. I have never adopted this style for myself. I have never approached them because they exist in a certain context. I may have subconsciously reinterpreted it, but with my own style and a lot of irony. By integrating my codes and my values, my background. I have never claimed to be in this world, which I respect, but which is not mine.
What look did you have on it?
I didn't recognize myself in the midst of that time, what these people were doing with it. That sort of stranglehold on discipline, as if guys have a secret that shouldn't be divulged. I found it super petty and stuck. All these rules, these attitudes, these styles from another age, did not speak to me. But I have the impression that this represents a certain French state of mind of the time. Not necessarily that of the tattoo world in general. For example, in the early 2010s, I was welcomed with open arms by Estevan Oriol and Mister Cartoon, to tattoo in their studio - SA Studios- in the skid row district of Los Angeles, while in France, the tattoo milieu yelled at me. From the start, I had my fan base, more or less linked to what I had done in graffiti. So alongside the hatred of some tattoo artists, I received a tremendous amount of love and encouragement at each of my events. I was the only one to tattoo this way then. I was wiping off the casts of what has become the norm today.
Artistically, did you like its culture, traditional styles, etc. ?
I did not arrive in the world of tattooing without an artistic background. I had my intense experience in the world of graffiti. I had already forged my visual identity, my reputation, my style. I adapted it for tattooing. I really liked the American traditional at first. The flash boards, their "simplicity", the cartoon, street side, the symbolism, all that spoke to me. But it was not for me to cover Sailor Jerry, I had to imbibe it, digest it and reinterpret it to pay homage to it, to be able to express myself with sincerity and above all, to have fun. So I hijacked the flash boards, picking up punchlines using for example rap album titles, expressions, provocations. I also mixed them with b-boy graffiti imagery, the comics of my childhood, bringing a current freshness to traditional drawings. Most importantly, I put a lot of myself, my style, my personality and my experiences into it. The sincerity of my approach played a big part in its success. It was, contrary to what some may have thought, not a mockery, but a roundabout homage to the ancients.
As the father of the "Ignorant Style", can you remind us of its origin and the message it conveyed?
I put this name on an attitude, a style, which I have developed since the mid-1990s in the world of vandal graffiti. It is of course with irony that I have declared myself "ignorant", sending critics to their own ignorance. There was a lot of provocation in all of this. I questioned the rules and codes of graffiti, intentionally returning to a "childish" style, "free from all influences, (if not the beginnings of graffiti in NYC at the very beginning of the 1970s). A kind of brutal art of graffiti, so dear to Dubuffet that I had never heard of at the time. The word stuck, to become a movement in its own right in graffiti as it is today in the world of tattooing.
What was the community's reaction to your "Ignorant Style"?
I had the support of some, the disapproval of a large majority. All change takes place in pain. My style and my attitude questioned all their principles. Many tattoo artists under the pretext of "saving the tattoo" were acting like grocers, trying to protect their shops from competitors, and to save their businesses and their income. If you consider yourself a "tattoo artist" you must be open to the evolution of your art. The tattoo does not belong to anyone. You have to constantly challenge yourself to last. I nourish myself every day with what the new generations bring me, in terms of creation, as well as of perception, new means, techniques and attitude. But I also remain very attentive to the journey of the elders, the pioneers, to know their paths, their stories. I don't like everything, but I respect and open my eyes. This is the key to evolving as an artist but also as a human being. At the end, there is room for everyone, if you stick to your passion.
This style has now established itself. How does this affect you?
I am extremely flattered by this. It was never my goal. At the same time, what is done today with the label "ignorant style" is sometimes very different from what I do. There is no description, no manual to explain how to practice it. It is precisely the fact that there are no rules that should define it. I put a name on the state of mind of an era, which could be summed up as: "Know your culture, the better to revolutionize it." Some have probably forgotten the first part of this sentence. First and foremost, it's a passionate thing. Even fanatics. You don't revolutionize a movement if you don't know its history and haven't proven yourself in it. But this style is by definition moving. And every day I enjoy watching it live, expand and transform.
Do you still recognize yourself there?
Ignorant style is my child, he was conceived in pain and conflict. He was insulted, mocked, but went through hardship with his head held high, to become a fulfilled adult. Of course, he's not the wild child he started out with, sometimes I regret that but I'm extremely proud of his career. He has traveled the world, he is now independent, the family has grown, but I remain his father!
What relationship do you have with these artists who claim it?
My interest and respect goes to the creators, who are the real leaders. To those who take risks to offer new things. To those who put themselves in artistic danger. Not to followers, who reproduce trendy patterns and shamelessly copy to surf a wave, all this to better jump on another when desired. Regardless of style and discipline. I will always have respect for real enthusiasts.
Do you follow tattoo artists in particular?
I follow what it is being done, in all mediums. I am an information junkie. I don't like to point fingers at people because it puts other equally talented people in the background, whom I would have forgotten to mention. But, in no order of preference, and exhaustively, I would say: Dominik tattoo, Auto christ, Luxiano, Ritasalt, Ruco, David Schiesser, Grumpy, Trash baby, etc.
The tattoo today feeds on a "vandal" approach, with tattooing of the face, hands, in a "fuck it" style that does not seek to be beautiful. What do you think ?
I'm not sure getting a tattoo on your face today has the same “fuck it” value as it did 20 or more years ago. I don't think the process is really similar either, without of course making generalizations. It is just part of the customs. It is sometimes radical for me but the cursors have moved. This is not for me to judge. I don't know what I would have done with all my rage if I had been 20 today. Everything is always a matter of context. A facial tattoo of an MS13 in El Salvador does not compare with that of Post Malone. Even if it remains a facial tattoo.
Are you working there permanently?
No, I live in California, but friends run the place on a day-to-day basis and I go back there about every 3 months, to tattoo, meet the guests and organize various events.
You published a book last year called "Behind Bars", the title is pretty self-explanatory and echoed the experiences of confinement. What's in it?
“Behind bars was born from the meeting with Gramata (IG: @gramata.nakolki). He showed his tattoos and his daily life in prison in the Balkans on his Instagram account. I found that his approach and his experience deserved to be showcased through a publication. So we put together his photos, taken using a poverty-stricken phone, and showed his daily life, his tattooing work on his fellow inmates. Here again, the context completely defines the gaze on his work. Living in a tiny cell, building a machine, having to get the equipment, getting organized so as not to be caught by the guards, everything is complicated and has value in this process. In addition, his references were linked to Russian Orthodox designs, the prison population he encountered being predominantly Russian. It visually echoed what one had discovered through the famous books "Russian criminal tattoo". But once again, with the interpretation of a young Greek, from graffiti and confronted with a situation, a special and current environment.
Why do you want to talk about tattoos in prison even today?
Because visually it always spoke to me. I love the meaning behind a tattoo, its history. And those performed in prison or on the streets, despite the poor execution, are often more worth and more force than the extremely well executed chain in a salon in Brooklyn or elsewhere. My main goal has always been to bring out the beauty and aesthetics of what is commonly perceived as ugly or dirty, or technically poorly executed. In tattooing as in graffiti. In this, I use the codes and traditional means of beautiful books and the design associated with it.
What place does tattoo have in your artistic activity today?
I share my work between my different artistic projects. Writing, drawing, painting, illustration, fashion, photography, graffiti... and therefore tattooing. Concretely, tattooing must now represent 30% of my activity. I also continue to travel to tattoo and meet people. I don't think I'll ever stop doing it.
Do you now feel like you belong to the great history of tattooing?
Despite myself, probably. History will tell. + IG : @fuzi_tattoo IG Seulement Pour La Vie : @seulementpourlavie
