Interview with Gyz La Riviere

Gyz La Rivière. VLAG. Mixed media. 14 x 10 x 3 cm. 2019. Courtesy of the artist.

By JENNY WANG July 6, 2024 

At the NARS Foundation, Rotterdam-based artist Gyz La Rivière is currently completing his residency for Season II, 2024. Inspired by youth culture, dead media, urbanism, and social housing, he works with a wide range of media including film and installation. Imbued with pop art’s irreverence and a distinct, retrofuturist aesthetic appeal, his work re-examines and flirts with the socio-historical contexts of archival images and found objects. In this interview, he discusses the interconnectedness of global metropolises, as well as how cities like New York became his muse. 

JW: Gyz, you have a very global perspective, and your work touches on metropolitan life and urban alliance. In your film, New Neapolis (2020), you mentioned that Rotterdam, Liverpool, Naples, and Marseille should form a “gang” because they are European harbor cities with similar cultures and an inherent sense of connection. What is the source of this transnational outlook? Are you itinerant in your career? 

GR: I am based in Rotterdam, Netherlands. That is my main “port” because we are a harbor city. From day one, I have had an open mind and an international perspective because of the water that flows into our harbors. I talk a lot about harbor cities because now everybody is, of course, connected through the internet. But in the past, everything arrived from overseas through the harbors. In Rotterdam, we had a long tradition of getting music records before other places in the Netherlands. The harbor spread information to the people—you would hear first-hand gossip or news. The same thing happened with the distribution of goods—fashion commodities like shoes and clothes would get to harbors first. When I was young, the south side of Rotterdam was poorer than the north. When color TV first came around, nobody could afford it in the north, but nearly everyone in the south side had it. They joked that the color TVs “fell from the ship.” To make a comparison in today’s terms, it felt like being the first to make an announcement post on social media.

Like many artists, I like to travel because I am amazed by other people—how they live and how they experience the world. But you can also visit places in your mind or through the internet. You can even stay at one place and see the whole world. In the film Smoke (1995), the guy who owns the tobacco shop reminds me of the people working in delis and bodegas here in New York. They know a lot about humanity because they have seen everything. In a way, this kind of observation is an artistic approach. 
 

Gyz La Rivière. New Neapolis. 2020, 106 mins, a StudioRev Production. Promotional poster. Courtesy of the artist.
  

JW: A lot of your work is about things built by humans: cities, houses, shipping crates, advertisements, and even computer keyboards. Do you ever look to nature for inspiration? Why do you find cities so fascinating? 

GR: I care about nature. I think nature is very important, but I just cannot study everything. Also, the city–nature dichotomy is a little more nuanced for me.  

I am interested in cities because, I think in general, we have been collectively building cities worldwide to accomplish greatness. In a city, you have to deal with each other. It is a learning field—almost like a big school. There are some bad sides, but so many amazing things happen when you grow up in and with the city. I study both the evolution and the decline of cities because they help me understand humankind. 

I am just really a concrete jungle kid, you know? I can't help it. I started skateboarding as a kid and really saw the concrete pavements and stone sidewalks in the city as my “nature” and playfield—my hands touched the pavements a lot. I think skateboarders around the world were the first city dwellers who really made cities their own, just like little birds jumping among the trees. 

Actually, many skateboarders become artists or musicians as they get older and their legs start to hurt. Perhaps they are still so amazed by doing tricks, and making art is just like doing tricks. That was the starting point for me—at first I was just playing around in the city as a teenager. Now that I am an artist, I am privileged to still be playing, with cities being one of my subjects of study.

Gyz La Rivière. NYC Protest Boxes. Found objects and mixed media. Dimensions variable. 2024. Courtesy of the artist.

JW: Can you talk more about Flat & Apartment Building (2023)? 

GR: You can look at the city through different lenses. The social aspect of the city is very contingent upon housing, which, in my mind, is a necessity and a basic right. I studied my own city, and in fact, Rotterdam changed so much because of the WWII bombings and many urban renewal projects. I think the municipality did many wrong things, and our long tradition of social housing has been completely thrown in the trash can. 

Social housing can be pretty, in the same way that the subway stations in Moscow are pretty. You can make social housing nice—they are cathedrals for the working class. Nowadays, a lot of capitalist properties are very expensive but so cheap-looking. They look like social housing back in the days. A lot of things must have gone wrong. We have to go back to the question of why we are building a city. Imagine the working schoolteachers. With the wage they get, they have to live on the city’s outskirts. Before and after an exhausting day at school, they have to take the bus for two and a half hours—it just doesn't make any sense. Earlier, I said that cities are human-made feats of greatness, but sometimes people forget why we built these cities in the first place. In 2023, I made a film called Malin TV that discusses the housing shortage in the Netherlands; Flat & Apartment Building (2023) is a continuation of my interest in housing.

BROOKLYN, zine edited by Gyz La Rivière. 2024. Published by SAGO PRESS for Gyz La Rivière’s artist-in-residence at NARS foundation, Brooklyn (New York). 48 pages / English / design: Marie-Claude Doyon & Gyz La Rivière. Cover photo (detail): A.P.F. Hoek (FOXfotografie), 1987 / coll. SAR. Courtesy of the artist. 

JW: I was reading your zine, Brooklyn (2024), and you were talking about the interconnectedness of cities. For instance, there is a bar named Brooklyn Bar in Rotterdam. In New Neapolis (2020), you mentioned that lion tamer Henri Martin was originally from Marseille, but he later became director of the Rotterdam Zoo. Can you talk more about your research? 

GR: It is really hard to explain, but in German there is a word, Fingerspitzengefühl, “the fingertip feeling.” The chef’s recipe is in the fingers. I really like to dig deep into archives and search for information. And then I have to connect the dots—that is what I really love, and it is very compatible with the format of films because you can present a lot of information. 

JW: Absolutely! Your films actually remind me of the work of Agnès Varda. There is something about the exploration of the human scope, the extensive use of photography, the random but connected pieces of information, the humor, the lightheartedness… 

GR: Yes, and I like to bring up a serious topic and then insert a joke afterward. It is the anti-documentary aspect. I also really love to play with archival materials and different historical contexts.  

JW: You mentioned traveling to New York as a child with your father. What does New York mean to you? 

GR: He is very sick now. This is on my mind a lot during this residency. I came to the US for the first time with my dad in 1986. I was 10. The next time I came here was after the Twin Towers. There was a very big time gap in between. 

I have been to New York four times in my life. But in my mind, I've been here a lot, and that has to do with films and shows. New York is always on the television. It is always in fashion, so to speak. That’s what I like about New York. You know the American dream doesn't exist, but the dream city, which is New York, does exist—the yellow brick road that leads to Emerald City. But I still see a lot of toughness in the city. For this residency, I am here for three months, which is an excellent amount of time to really get to know the city beyond just the highlights and the tourist attractions. When I get back home, I have to really decompress. I don't yet fully know what this trip really means—maybe after more time has passed, I will get back to this question. 

All in all, New York has been very inspiring, with so much art, so many artists, and nice museums. This stay has gone by fast, like jumping on a subway ride. As a kid, I’ve always liked the subway. Every city that has a subway system can unite. WM