Tegmo: Mirror, mirror on the wall…
By choosing to work with an unconventional material, this hard-to-categorize artist plays with the reflections of light as well as those of the human soul.
Whether encountered by chance on the streets of Paris or on the walls of a gallery, Tegmo’s works catch the eye not only for their aesthetic appeal but also for the multitude of interpretations they invite. For this professional florist—who became an artist without intending to and discovered street art somewhat by chance—this medium has become a means of expression as much as of introspection.
How did you come up with the idea for these unique pieces? I’ve always been
fascinated by stained glass. In 2009, I quit smoking and needed to find something to keep my hands busy. I started by salvaging pieces from a broken coaster and figured out a way to put them together. I don’t know if it’s the right way, but it’s my way and it works for me [laughs]. A friend, who was launching an urban sports app, asked me to create a version of his logo—a triangle with an apostrophe. I designed a piece and we glued it together with putty, which I covered with a piece of mirror as a background.
Is that where your love for this material came from?
Absolutely. It was when I discovered how light reflects off it… I didn’t really analyze it until later, but by reflecting light, mirrors create a play of multiple perspectives, transforming every room into a living, ever-changing work of art. Every angle reveals new aspects, inviting the viewer to constantly explore and even engage in deep introspection. The idea is to perceive the details of the world around us differently. Moreover, traditionally, a work of art should be kept out of direct sunlight. With mine, it’s the opposite: with the mirror, you can play with the light.
How did you “become an artist”?
After that first experience in 2019, I started putting up stickers on the street, just for fun—at first, large ones, but people kept stealing them too often [laughs]. Now I put up small ones, simple triangles; I always have some in my pockets. When people saw them, some asked if I was selling them; I’d never even thought about it [laughs]. I started at a ridiculously low price, just to cover my materials. The artist Mais oui tu es belle, who pastes acid-etched mirrors, offered me a collaboration, which helped me get into a gallery. ERBK, on Mazarine Street, offered me a solo show that went well. So I had to choose between continuing my job as a florist and launching myself as an artist. Since I had a little money saved up, I took the plunge.
Has your practice changed since then?
In part. I spend a lot more time in the studio. I’ve refined my technique and gained more dexterity. I’ve also reflected on what I’m doing. I realized that my works reflect my state of mind. When I’m feeling good, I use large facets; the more chaos there is in my head, the smaller the pieces are [laughs]. Today, I can experiment with new approaches. For example, pieces that can rotate 360° with a mounting system. There’s the original meaning—the signature—but everyone can manipulate and interpret it in their own way. Right now, I’m also interested in colored glass paste, as well as sculptures and pieces in which I incorporate small tubes that can serve as single-flower vases.
Have you ever been criticized for creating decor rather than art?
Not really. My work slightly subverts the mirror’s primary function; it is no longer used to look at oneself, but to see the world around us in a different light and to rediscover forgotten details. It’s about erasing the mirror’s utilitarian aspect and rejecting its inherent narcissism. For me, a work of art doesn’t have to be “useful.” But I’m aware there’s an ambiguity… I also sometimes customize objects—spray cans as a nod to graffiti, shoes from the 127 Hours brand, clothing… Actually, it’s interesting to be at a crossroads. And it allows art to find its way everywhere.
Your next exhibition is a collaboration with Clément Herrmann. Do you enjoy this kind of work?
Yes, it’s great working with Clément. On the streets, I like teaming up with other artists, like TocToc or Dark—it’s part of the urban spirit. Two years ago, the Bessie Smith Cultural Center in the 12th arrondissement offered me their space, shortly after a solo show. I didn’t want to do the same thing again, so I had the idea of inviting about fifteen artist friends to work on my pieces. It was awesome! But I don’t want to do a collaboration just for the sake of it—there has to be a human and artistic connection, we have to enjoy ourselves, our worlds have to complement each other, it has to challenge me, let me experiment with new directions, and give me a bit of a hard time [laughs]. By the way, I also have a project with Bebar…
