Art

PAINTING THE GALAXY: A profile with the worldly artist Antoni

Blacklight cityscape mural adorning the R1 racetrack. (Art and photo by Antoni)

The day begins its descent into night; city shadows stretch like taffy as the sun sinks below the horizon. Antoni walks the darkening roads underneath the show of apartment windows lighting up like notes on a keyboard. A black cat slinks by, disappearing into the shadowy room behind a dumpster. The sun is replaced by the moon, rising solemnly above the beach at the end of the cobblestone streets. He stops on the white sand, the quiet crashing of waves replaces the urban hum of the city. Turning around to view the landscape behind him, he is struck with the contrast of night and day, light and dark, the realms that shift throughout our days without much thought. He asks himself, staring upon the cityscape of lights poking holes through darkness, while the inky ocean roars under the milky moon: “How can I paint this?”

Antoni has successfully answered this question by becoming one of the rare artists who use blacklight paint, and use it well. He grew up in the ‘90s in the small French village, Perigueux, and spent his childhood locked in his bedroom, sketching madly the characters that fascinated him. He tells me over coffee, “I think I knew that I would be an artist, but I didn’t know that I knew. I didn’t know it was possible to become that good and to be requested to paint overseas. When I was a kid I never could do this, only now I know that I knew it all along.”

He had the option to choose a reliable career in carpentry or pursue his sole passion and paint. He picked the latter, moving to Indonesia because it was nearby and cheap. He rented out two hotel rooms; one for sleeping and one for painting, and began working all day, every day, with spray paint. “I told all my friends I was going to be a painter, so I had to be a painter.” He laughs, “I got into it. I focused. No more fucking around, only painting. But I forgot to wear the protective mask, so every time I went to empty my nose there was color. I painted my lungs.”

His plan, after perfecting his craft, was to head back to Australia to sell his artwork on the street. But after all his hard work he realized his product was more advanced, and worth more, than the quick art that can be turned out on the street. He decided to create something with his art that was more permanent, marketing himself through a YouTube channel and a website. Eventually documenting his experimentation with blacklight paint.

Blacklight paint glows under a blacklight. This kind of paint is not ideal for murals or art pieces, because of its peculiar nature, which is why Antoni is drawn to it. “It is the painting of the future,” he says. “There is a lot of contrast between the different colors, and contrast when you see it in real life. It doesn’t work well in photos.” Antoni is creating a kind of art that doesn’t travel well. It cannot be transferred over email, or sent in particles through the mysterious medium of text message. He is creating an art experience that cannot be diluted; it is either observed in its purest form, or left unseen. “The blacklight painting can’t stay outside, it doesn’t like the direct light from the sun. The paint will fade away in 2-3 months. If the sun erases it, you will never see it.”

Antoni is visiting our humble state to paint a blacklight mural for R1 Indoor Karting. Taking a look at his portfolio, it is easy to see what he prefers painting. Galactic landscapes, fuming storm clouds, swirling planets, and alien beaches are just some of things he is known for. In his mural for R1 Indoor Karting, Providence’s Superman Building takes on the same theme. He captures the funky essence of the Creative Capital’s nightlife perfectly, by letting his artistic intuition be his guide. “I don’t know what I think about the city. I’ve been painting for so many hours. 12 hours, all daytime. I saw some nice murals briefly, but the energy of the city itself is cool.”

Antoni smiles over the table, and his eyes glaze over with the look of someone who knows they’re lucky. “What would I tell a younger artist? Do it for fun. Enjoy the process. Don’t do it to say ‘I became a painter.’ Don’t count the time.”