Martin Margiela needs no introduction. A legendary Belgian designer, his clothes turned the fashion industry on its head. He left his eponymous label in 2008 and has been making art ever since. Margiela's art explores themes of deconstruction, fragmentation, and the reconstruction of found objects, much like his fashion design did. His work attests to a fondness for the overlooked and unseen, with a keen eye to Surrealist practices. Ahead of his presentation with Antwerp-based Zeno X Gallery at Art Basel Hong Kong, we caught up with the elusive artist.
Jeni Fulton: When did you realize that you were an artist? Was there a key moment?
Martin Margiela: I did not choose to call myself an artist. Since childhood, I was drawing or painting and hearing encouraging comments from adults about my skills. My years in art school confirmed my obsession. Later, during my fashion career, critics and writers called me an artist because they felt that I was running free, with no fear; not guided by so-called ‘commercial viability’. But the demands of the fashion industry were so overwhelming that I was left with no time for any other form of expression. Every art field has always been a magnet for me.
Your practice incorporates key elements of Surrealism: hair, the role of chance, assemblage, and the importance of the fragment. Can you speak about your relationship to the movement?
Surrealism molded my mindset from a very early age. Being born in Belgium certainly has helped this movement to be forceful in my visual education; in the art school of my teenage years, in the fashion academy when I was 20. All connections between seemingly unrelated subjects and forms still amaze me, even today.
Tell me what the word ‘sculpture’ means to you.
Sculpting practice is especially exhilarating because 3D forms are naturally more demanding in terms of filling space. There is a thrill in working on all possible angles simultaneously. The beauty or singularity of the artwork is not enough: the way you choose a spot to install it, the way you can move around it, and how light and shadow interact.
Your sculpture Torso III (2018-2021) has at its heart abbreviated and estranged ideas about aesthetics, beauty, and masculinity. The final form is quite literally still sheathed in silicone and pushes against ideas of perfection and completeness. What do you want to convey here?
My quest for the ‘Torso’ series reflects on an anonymous, incomplete, and timeless body, turned into a classical vision. Sensuality of the shape and materials that invite touch – silicone, plaster – are key aspects for me.
Your work often appears to question the figure of the artist as an original creator, using found fragments, for example, of film in the ‘Film Dust’ series, and giving agency to inanimate objects (dust, hairs) in the artistic process.
I like the idea of the artist being ‘hidden’ behind the artwork they have created. The power of choosing elements – frequently overlooked – is their realm and calling. What they do with those is the next step; mostly stimulating, sometimes daunting.
Can you talk about the role of chance in your art?
I don’t really believe in the idea of pure chance. In my artwork, any chance happening has come from many hours of reflection, reading, trials, and a lot of work. I need to feel this creative frenzy to let my mind flow, thus being receptive to meaningful outside signs. I prefer the word ‘serendipity’ to the word ‘chance’.
Your artwork often incorporates fragments of existing materials and objects, creating a sense of discontinuity. Could you talk about what the concept of the ‘fragment’ means to you, and why you use it the way you do?
Fragments – forgotten, discarded, disrespected, thrown away – are always speaking to me as I feel they deserve much of my attention. My intervention can give them back a life, a form, a meaning, through assembling, reworking, reshaping.
You have often spoken about the importance of anonymity. How is this carried over into your artistic practice?
Pour vivre heureux, vivons cachés (To live happily, live hidden): this 18th-century French proverb has always been paramount to me. I realized early in my life that – especially in the fashion world, which was mine for over 30 years – I hated the pressure of promoting the personal image of the author over the work I was creating. Since I left fashion in 2008, I haven’t changed. Protecting my private life is synonymous with being free, in all aspects.
What prompted you to leave the world of fashion for the world of art? Is fashion ‘finished’ for you?
For me, fashion in its current form has completely lost its appeal. It is now 15 years since I left my fashion house and I have never regretted the decision. It took me two years to regain my energy, and visual art has represented a very welcome reawakening. Even though I can admire images of a fashion show in a magazine or an outfit in a shop window, it does not make me nostalgic for those times in my life. Being away – forever – from fashion’s corporate obligations, exhausting calendar, and social media frenzy has been an incredible relief.
What can you do as an artist that you couldn’t do as a fashion designer? And how do your practices intersect?
Many of my favorite themes remain unchanged. But back then, I had only the human body as a base for creation. Today I have total freedom to use as many supports and media as I desire. I very much enjoy the fact that art movements evolve much more slowly than fashion trends.
Martin Margiela’s work will be on view with Zeno X Gallery at Art Basel Hong Kong from March 22 to March 25, 2023.
Dr. Jeni Fulton is Art Basel’s Head of Editorial.
Published on March 13, 2023.
Caption for full-bleed images, from top to bottom: 1, 3, 4. Installation view of Martin Margiela’s exhibition at Lotte Museum of Art, Seoul, 2022. Courtesy of Lotte Museum of Art. 2. Installation view of Martin Margiela’s artwork Red Nails (2019) in his exhibition at Lafayette Anticipations, Paris, 2022. Photograph by Pierre Antoine. Courtesy of the artist and Zeno X Gallery (Antwerp).