“It was surprising,” he says, raising his eyebrows, “I had seen people express their political views through graffiti. But the political messages with flags aren’t something you see everywhere.”
For Hamon, who tried his hands on street art in France some three years ago, it was surprising, that in such a relaxed country, why some artist wouldn’t come up with nice street arts. But he couldn’t dare replace the wall slogans with some street art, although he would’ve loved to do so. So, rather, he brought stencil, the popular medium of street art on canvas.
When asked to explain stencils, he paused for a while, unable to find any suitable example in the Nepali context.
“I don’t think stencil is popular in Nepal. But if you know Bansky, his latest graffiti of Obama, which was printed in TIME, was in stencil medium,” he says, referring to one of the most acclaimed British graffiti artists.
Simply put, stencil is paper or plastic template, where art is sketched. After sketching, the work is cut out and fixed on the canvas before spraying with airbrush.
“Of course, the process of stencil is difficult to understand if you haven’t seen it,” he says. His four-room apartment and studio at Jhamsikhel smells of fresh acrylic and turpentine, and looks more like a radio workshop with a small rectangular box with bundles of wires by the entrance.
“This is a compressor,” he says, holding a weird contraption, which looks more like a kid’s toy. “It looks different because I made this by myself,” he beams. Compressor is an electric device that pushes air into the airbrush.
After spending some time in finding an airbrush and special airbrush acrylic in Nepal, Hamon realized not many art shops in Nepal knew about stencils, either, let alone have airbrushes. So he decided to use the same old airbrush and rig a compressor for himself.
“We put a bit of acrylic here,” he points to the little funnel attached to the airbrush. After pushing the button on the other end of funnel, the acrylic is sprayed in small dot-like frizzles.
Stenciling is an arduous business. It takes him at least four days, sometimes a week, to make one painting. The 10 stencil works he’s putting on exhibition at the Bakery Cafe Pulchowk, from Friday, April 3, took him over six months. The deadline was also prolonged by load shedding.
The process is even more arduous with Hamon, because he makes the clay models first and then moves on to take pictures after which he photoshops a little before the actual stencil works begin.
On his works, he has used seven layers of colors. “Each layer needs a different template. So the more layers you have, the more complicated it becomes.”
According to him, on the canvas, one can still feel the touch of clay or wood, but these original materials aren’t there anymore, and nor the full dimensions of the sculpture.
“It brings them a new presence, free and aimless, that you can fill with your own thoughts or feelings and maybe that’s why they are silent witnesses,” he says, explaining the reason behind the name of the exhibition.
Before Hamon came to Nepal, he worked in France as a stone carver. During his 10 years at it, he renovated several historical buildings, including Gothic cathedrals and castles. In Nepal, he thought he would do something on stone carving but he discovered that French stone carving was totally different from what is practiced in Nepal.
“In France, the carving is more about geometrical shapes, like pillars, for instance. In Nepal, I was surprised to learn that stone carving is usually about faces and bodies, especially that of deities.”
Ninth National Art Exhibition in photographs
He was so fascinated by these stone deities, however, that he decided to learn it anyway. So he spent two months studying Nepali stone carving at a workshop in Gwarko. In fact, one of the photos he took during this time won him the first prize at a photo exhibition organized by Alliance Francaise, Nepal Chapter.
“I enjoyed the whole time there,” he says, “I learnt the basics of it.”
The idol of the Buddha, which he carved during his class in Gwarko, resembles closely to Nepali art except for the fact that it’s a bit too smiley.
“I did that on purpose,” he smiles slowly to keep the mystery intact.
Aymeric Hamon applies airbrush technique in one his paintings.
Bikash Karki
Although Hamon loves to call himself an atheist, there’s something about Nepali divinities that inspires him to capture them in his artwork.
“They are peaceful,” he says, his thin eyebrows pulled up in surprise. “Growing up in a Christian household, I thought god is necessarily someone who’s hung on the cross and goes through suffering. Though I don’t believe in god, it is a typecast you can’t just ignore.”
According to him, it’s this serenity he wants to preserve in his art back home.
“And maybe I overdid it,” he says, as he steals a quick glance at the Buddha stencil, which, again, is more cheerful than the original wooden statue. It’s the same treatment he gave to the Buddha’s unpolished stone idol, too.
The exhibition’s curator is photo.circle, and will run until Friday, April 24. Hamon is also demonstrating the techniques of stencils and clay models on the opening day.
