During a lunch interview with Laurent Pernot, 26, there were all the flaky accoutrements of an artist: discussion on purpose, incarnation, the symbolic relationship between the known universe and mankind, memories, beginnings and endings, life and death, liberty, sensuality, desires, contradictions, ambiguities, being and non-being. But what really intrigues the mind is how such sombre work churns out of someone so young, bright and... clad in pink.
With a matching pink wristband to boot, the soft-spoken Pernot belies expectation.
Shame on me for judging a book by its cover, and the artist by his artwork; why should the creative output be a direct reflection of the creator? Like a happy tourist still on the cusp of delight and adventure, Pernot's work is part of Le French May and when we meet for the interview, he's still amazed by Hong Kong, despite the dreary humidity, heat and the over-peopled lanes of Central.
Judging by his work, I was expecting a man with a shock of black hair, kohl-strewn eyes, tattoos and a cigarette haze shadowing his every gothic, all-black-attired movement.
"That's amazing, there's an art gallery right in the heart of the city in Hong Kong?" he says as we pass the oh-so-expensive Opera Gallery.
Where was the bah-humbug attitude?
The tinge of angst and dark lore that's nearly palpable in his work?
For example, there's a piece titled Gravity, a young boy, with white feathered wings attached to his nude torso, who seems almost in tears, lost in the shadow of the dark side of the moon. An angel in blue.
For example, there's a piece titled Gravity, a young boy, with white feathered wings attached to his nude torso, who seems almost in tears, lost in the shadow of the dark side of the moon. An angel in blue. "You know I had seen this boy often and there was a strange mixture of child-like innocence and seriousness that I found very mystifying," says Pernot, trying to pin down exactly why the teen was chosen specifically to pose for the image. "He was between an adult and a child, he would play but he was so serious. He had this sadness in his eyes and I thought he would be perfect for this idea of an angel wanting to fly away, but can't. Between two worlds..."
Nodding vigorously as one does when one claims comprehension but is nowhere near it, it's easy to appreciate the visual for what it is. The soft focus video clip of the angel struggling to get airborne, and failing after several attempts, is superscripted with a dramatic soundtrack, an atmospheric piece exemplifying his failure in flight.
"My reference is the Greek mythological character Icarus. He is the Icarus of our world."
According to legend, Icarus died by falling into the Icarian Sea when he flew too close to the sun, which melted the wax holding his artificial wings together. The reference makes the image seem even more morbid.
What makes the experience of this exhibition different at the most literal level is that there is no still canvas or sculpture to meander around. A constant change is the unwritten, unclaimed motif. The video installation pieces are in perpetual motion; for example The Uncertanity of Stars" is spectacular to watch. A curtain made of silk wires hangs in a dark corridor, whilst a thin screen allows anyone to pass through the projection. Lo and behold, thousands of particles of light, like falling stars, appear in a gush.
"It is an endless fall of time. Gravity. And little by little, luminous shapes arise among the stars, like comets moved by an elusive force, upward and downward. The shapes look like northern lights, when I first experienced them in Norway," says Pernot re-imagining how this piece came to be.
Eerier still is the Corpse Bride - no connection to Tim Burton's dark comedy. Or perhaps there is? I forget to ask, though he did say he was a fan of film as much as he was of artwork around the world. For Ever is the one that's most disconcerting. The image of a woman is projected (by hidden light cables) onto a bridal dress, making it come alive as the body suddenly inhabits the outfit lying on the floor.
Is it part of a fairy tale? The Sleeping Beauty? Or the tragedy of Eurydice, who lay dead soon after her wedding?
"I really want the audience themselves to decide what it means to them," says the artist, leaving an audience like me in a tizzy. I was among those who stepped away quickly as the image swelled and faded, like a woman arising from the land of the dead, a memory refusing to disperse and clinging on for dear after-life.
Objectively speaking, all art is subjective.
One man's Guernica is another man's garbage, but it needs to be noted that the response to Pernot's work has been almost unilaterally appreciative. He lives and works in Lille and Paris, a fresh graduate from Le Fresnoy National Studio of Contemporary Arts (Tourcoing, France). At a young age his work has taken him around the world with a series of exhibitions; be it in China for the Biennial of Wuyishan or at the Miro Foundation of Barcelona, the Intercross Creative Center of Sapporo, in Japan, as well as Finland, the UK, Germany, and Slovenia.
"I never thought that my work would take me across the world and it's really wonderful to see the reaction of people from different countries. I'm as intrigued by the places I visit and the questions I get from people..."
"...As they are of your work?" I end the sentence for him.
One can't help but fall into a dream-like state where things are a haze of mirages, memory fading light and altered visions, all of which is palpable through his exhibition.
As Pernot goes over the myriad collection that he's brought into Hong Kong and tries to enlighten me with theme and theory, I try to guesstimate what the piece Help is all about. The word 'help', made from neon, is placed in a corner between two walls , behind a large spider web made entirely of wires and pearls. If every art work can mean whatever it means to it's audience, I state claim to the fact that the piece is a cry from all young struggling artists, shining brightly in this dark and deceptive world. The piece in fact isn't called 'Help', it is laboriously titled, We all are looking for a Prophet.
Pernot smiles benevolently and says, "The word or sound of 'help' is understood all over the world. It is a request for assistance, relief, from an individual or through collective support. It is a cry of fear, a message of loneliness or anguish. It's an interesting word as it focuses on the very special aspect of human kind, which reveals a few aspects of our survival: solidarity, complementary, interactivity. In this case, the permanent message "help" is appealing to us in the darkness, despite the absence of the supposed predator (the spider). Hence, it seems to be useless, without any witness. Who is appealing to us? What help? Where is the spider? Who is the spider? Is there really any spider?"
Er.... how existential.
"Right!"
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