Killoffer

Interviewed by Déborah Lucas

English translation by Richard Lawson

The original French-language version of this interview was published in Marches à Londres, December 2005

On 26 October 2005, Patrice Killoffer was invited to participate in a conference at the ICA (Institute of Contemporary Arts) in London.  He was also there to promote the English launch of Six Hundred and Seventy-Six Apparitions of Killoffer.

I queued up to ask him to sign a book for me, and I asked him to draw one particular little octopus for me.

KILLOFFER

No, I don't like drawing things I've already done, it's boring.  I'm going to draw you a big monster, something unique that I've never done before.

DÉBORAH

Cool, when you're dead, I'll sell it for loads of money.

KILLO

The only thing is, it'll take a long time, so you can go off and come back in a while.

DL I should come clean: I'm the annoying woman who wants an interview.
KILLO

Ah, OK!  Sorry, I'm late because I went shopping; I wanted to find some cigars.  Then I also had a problem with what clothes to wear tonight.  If you want, we can do the interview while I draw the monster.

OK, we're off.  His girlfriend lends me her seat next to me and I'm even allowed to use the 'tu' form with him.

DL Here they've presented you as part of the emerging international new wave of graphic novel artists … and also as the French Tarantino of autobiographical comics.  How would you explain that comparison?  Are you happy about it?
KILLO

It must be because of the trash side.  I'd prefer to be compared to something more unhealthy: to a director like David Cronenberg, or perhaps to David Lynch.  But ultimately I still wouldn't be able to understand that kind of comparison.  What do I think about it on a general level?  Nothing.  I'm not in a position to know whether it's appropriate or not: perhaps Paul Gravett, who's a very good comics journalist, and a connoisseur as well, which is fairly rare … perhaps he chose this comparison because he's capable of picking out the right reference from the innumerable references that he has at his disposal – a reference that won’t just do justice to the artist, but will resonate with his readers as well.  I don't know: I'm not a journalist.  As an artist, it doesn't mean much to me. 

Don't get me wrong: I don't mean that I'm absolutely unique, or that my 'oeuvre' has appeared from the ether, without any outside influences at all.  It's precisely because I've fed myself on an infinite number of sources that I can't choose between them. I can acknowledge what I owe to certain artists – or the ways we resemble one another; but I'm slightly scared of slogans, hasty definitions, takeaway formulas, excessive simplifications ... and in fact, the more I talk about it, the more irritated I get.  I'm tempted to say this sort of formula is part of the dominant media discourse of television, which flattens things out and simplifies them.  It seems to me that on paper you have a little more time to analyse things and to take account of the complexity of the world.  But then again, on some level it's always nice to be compared to someone well-known, like Tarantino.

DL

Your work has been published in France since the end of the 1980s.  You've also been published in Germany.

KILLO

Yes, Le Clef des Champs and a collection that's only available in German (Wie man Sich Bettet) have been published by Reprodukt, a very good publisher.

DL 676 Apparitions of Killoffer will be available in English comic bookshops in December.  It's the first of your books to be translated in the United Kingdom.  That means there’ll be more potential readers.
KILLO Every author wants his book to be read.  The more readers, the better.
DL

676 Apparitions of Killoffer was very well-received in France, and had very good reviews.  The book was nominated as one of the best albums of 2003.  The story is that you're in Montreal and you start worrying about the dirty dishes you abandoned in the sink before you left, and you find yourself face to face with different versions of you, and there are Killoffers everywhere in the apartment, on every page, and it's utter chaos.  It’s funny and it's unhealthy, it's unexpected and extremely trashy – and the drawings and use of space on the page are amazing.  Where did your idea come from?  What was your aim?

KILLO

The French foreign ministry sent me to Montreal as part of the ‘year of Quebec’.  My aim was to do something autobiographical about my trip there.  But nothing happened, and there was nothing I could say about it, so I dropped that idea and went off in a different direction.

DL What's the book's relationship with autobiographical comics?
KILLO The autobiographical element has been very visible in comics publishing for several years … perhaps too much so: too many artists are telling us how they clean their teeth.  Not that there aren't lots of good things around.  Willem said 676 Apparitions was 'the comic to end all autobiographical comics'.  It's true that the book begins in an autobiographical way: you expect something normal … and then it spirals out of control.  But that doesn't happen in real life.  I don't multiply in any way, and I don't shit everywhere.
DL There's lot of debauchery, sex, alcohol, and excrement: the book explodes everywhere.  Why's it so intense?
KILLO The first thing humans produce is crap.  Autobiography is a bit like saying 'look at how beautiful my crap is'.  All this excrement is an expression of self-hatred.  You shit yourself, you purge yourself.  In comics, the panels system is also a system of retention and expulsion.  Comics also have a lot to do with childhood.  Crap interests me because as a child I often shit my pants.  Actually, it was because I refused to go and shit.  I held it all in.  Psychologists say children do that to make their parents understand that they’re in the shit.
DL While we're talking about childhood … how did drawing, comics, and all of that start for you?
KILLO

As a child, I was a reader of comics and I drew superhero comics.  Actually, it was just covers of comics with my name everywhere - 'Drawings: Killoffer, Colours: Killoffer' …

DL

Who are your main influences?

KILLO The Dutchmen Willem and Joost Swarte … those artists of the perverted clear line.
DL

And why the comic book genre?  Why not painting or another art form?

KILLO Without L'Association I would have finished with comics.  I would only have worked as an illustrator.  Ultimately it was with L'Association that I really began my career.
DL You founded L'Association in 1990, with JC Menu, Lewis Trondheim, David B, Mattt Konture and Stanislas – people who have very different styles and personalities.  Now, in 2005, L'Association artists are known, acknowledged and even copied.  But that wasn't the case in 1990.  Did you struggle get published before L'Association was created?
KILLO In 1990, the publishing world was very rigid.  Between 1970 and 1980 there was lots of creativity and innovation, but mass-market production killed the goose that laid the golden egg.  Things were stifled in 1990.  There were comics that I liked but I didn't want to do the same thing.  It was hard to do new stuff.
DL You've also been part of Oubapo (Ouvroir de Bande dessinées potentielles - a reference to the Oulipo literary collective) since it was founded back in 1992.  Can you explain what interests you in particular about Oubapo?  Is it the working within certain constraints, the improvisation, or the slightly delirious side of it all, the unexpected results...?
KILLO It’s the experimenting with new ways of doing things, and discovering new narrative styles.  And yes, the rules and constraints enable all that.  Some people see 676 apparitions as an Oubapo work.
DL You've illustrated traditional Chinese stories with the Albin Michel Jeunesse publishing house.  Do you have any particular connection with China?
KILLO

No, it's actually more with Japan.  When I was younger, I copied Japanese stamps.  And later on I realised my style – certain elements of it -- owed something to Japanese stamps.  So my illustrations of Chinese stories have a rather Japanese feel.

DL

Would you be interested in drawing books for children?

KILLO Yes, I'd like that a lot.  In Lapin, I drew a series of short stories called Merde, where the main character always says 'shit' at the end, and children love that.
DL

You’ve drawn a terrifying comic, Les Profondeurs,  as part of the Donjon Monster series (which isn’t really for children, even if it might seem that way) ... it’s violent, with a black and cold sense of humour.  It seems you really let rip in that album.

KILLO

That project was a real letting off of steam for me.  I like Moebius a lot and I’m ashamed about that because it’s too classical; there’s too much of a heroic fantasy style.  And Donjon was an opportunity for me to express myself; I did lots and lots of drawings.  It’s very dense, there’s a lot in it, it’s suffocating as a result ... but then again, it happens underwater, so it’s allowed to be that way.  The editorial project of the Donjon Monster series is to make heroic fantasy readers discover other graphic styles, and artists who don’t usually do heroic fantasy stuff.  Sfar was disappointed by my drawings; he thought I wasn’t playing the game properly.  But Trondheim expected that sort of drawing from me.

DL

How have you worked with Sfar and Trondheim?  Is the trashy side more to do with you, or is it a question of teamwork?

KILLO

Sfar and Trondheim work with the artist and adapt the story.  That one’s definitely the trashiest story in the Donjon Monsters series.  They looked after the story, sent me a few pages, I sent them some drawings, they sent me some more pages.  Maybe the story influenced the drawing and vice versa.  But still, there are two ideas, two little gags, which are my own work.

DL

This book was nominated for a prize at Angoulême.

KILLO The album was nominated for the best drawing prize at Angoulême at the start of the year.  (Smiles.)  My books are always nominated, but they never win.
DL

The characters are great; there are some amazing discoveries.  Did you do lots of research into marine fauna?

KILLO I always have Art Forms in Nature (by Ernst Haeckel) by my side as a reference.  It’s a great classic and isn’t as well known as it should be.  I love drawing the depths of the oceans.  The underwater universe is feminine and uterine.  It’s frightening and seductive, all at the same time.

DL

You also illustrate articles for French newspapers (Le Monde, Libération, La Vie).  Do you enjoy illustrating the news?  Do you feel you’re expressing your vision of what’s going on?

KILLO

Sometimes I express my opinion.  It’s a very interesting type of work; for example in La Vie, which is a paper whose readers are generally fairly old, and easily shocked, I have to be kindly and serious, and I like this constraint.  This kind of illustration work is very different from what I’d do in a publication like Charlie Hebdo, for instance, where you can do whatever you want.  Self-censorship allows me to try and express myself instead of drawing something really stupid.

DL

Viva Patamach is a political fable dealing with dictatorships, propaganda and regime change.  The story’s about a society where the only food available is chewing gum.  The comic is in black and white, and the only colour used is pink.  That collaboration with Capron, the idea of using colours in that way – how did that happen?

KILLO

The starting point was to do a children’s album, then it became a comic that needed to match the format of the rest of the collection.  It was Capron’s first scenario, and he wanted to do far too much with it.  Basically ... this project took lots of work, it really didn’t go very well, and I just worked on it when I had the time.  It took lots of time to do it.  The original idea of using one colour with black and white was an idea we both had.

DL

In some of your work, the urban environment has a good deal of importance (in Géométrie dans la poussière, for example).  The city and public transport are very prominent; it’s almost as if they’re alive.  What is it that inspires you about an urban setting?

KILLO

The city’s something that’s teeming; there’s always a story to tell.  Géométrie dans la poussière began in Le Monde, as part of a special edition where artists could express themselves as they saw fit.  They didn’t use ten of my drawings, so Le Monde put me in touch with Pierre Senges.  It was a commission, an illustration job.

DL

A non-expert finds it hard to recognise your style from one book to another.  You have several different styles which don’t have much in common.  Does it depend on the subject, your mood ... on the technique you feel like using?

KILLO

I get bored quickly, I want to surprise myself, do books that are different from one other.  The story follows the graphic style, or the other way round.

DL

Do you have other projects on the go?

KILLO

I’m trying to get ready.  I really struggle to get going.  I’m not prolific.  My brain’s all rotten.  I’m slow, and my ideas need time to mature.  I don’t like books where the original idea is too visible.  First there’s the idea, but something else has to push through it.  So for the moment I’ve got a block – but I like this sort of period, because these are the periods when you’re searching for yourself, when ideas mature, rot and grow.

DL

Do you regularly take part in international events like this evening in London?

KILLO

Yes, often. I know artists from Germany, Switzerland, Belgium, Spain, America...

DL And do you like London?  Do you come here regularly?
KILLO It’s my first trip to London.  I’m not a big traveller.  But I like it a lot, there are a lot of things to see and do.  I’ve stayed three days, I’m leaving tomorrow, and I know I’ll come back frustrated.
DL

But now you’ve been translated in the UK you’ll surely come back!

KILLO

Yeah perhaps.  I hope so.

© 2005 Déborah Lucas; Translation © 2005 Richard Lawson

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