French collagist SLip began his art career in the music industry of the late 90’s. Since then, the Lyon-based artist has spent over two decades cultivating a profound and thought-provoking style. A number of publications have sought to pin the central themes of his work from anywhere between Surrealism and Soviet Minimalism. While that may be true, there aren’t many artists that can also boast the blending of Rennaisance figures like Botticelli, Raphael and Michalengo with the iconography of football’s most famous moments.

The truth is, SLip is still figuring it out. More recently, his collages, have captured the dystopia and hysteria of the last few years, using brutal architecture, grainy nostalgia and vintage advertisements that disorientate and obscure a deeper, more sinister meaning. They offer something that, in times as precarious as these, we can all connect with on some level.

We spoke to him to learn about the sources of his inspiration, his relationship with football and why there is no longer room for mythology in the modern game (but there will always be room for artists).

How would you describe your style? I have seen it be described as a mixture of Soviet minimalism and surrealism. Would you agree with this?

When I’m asked, I said I’m a digital collagist walking in a surreal world. You’re right in your definition though, I am love with Soviet artists, especially pre-war artists such as El Lissitzky. Even if I’m not strictly a minimal artist, I always keep it in mind - to make more with less.

Your more recent work - that which you feature heavily on your instagram - consists of collages that have sci-fi/dystopian themes. Where did the inspiration or the ideas come from for this?

Wow… I would say that my inspiration comes from everywhere. Most of my work deals with news of the world and my personal life. I always have some vague subjects in mind that I would like to deal with, such as ecology, politics, family.
Sometimes, something random will trigger an idea. It could be a song on the radio, or the colour of a man’s socks in the street, or something else. I can then seek for the perfect people to populate my artwork.

Some of your more recent work reminds me of George Orwell or a J.G. Ballard novel. Do you take your inspiration from literature and other elements of culture? Were there any particular moments in your life - watching a specific movie, reading a certain book, listening to a certain record - that changed your outlook and attitude to your work or your life, or both?

Even though I am a big reader, and that I love authors such as Orwell, literature is not a direct inspiration for me. But I think that some books I have read could well have had an indirect impact in defining my style.
I think that you are set up by your experiences. So the book you choose to read, the records you listen to, the people you follow in life - it all works to construct your identity.

What is the overriding message that your work seeks to portray?

I always try to focus on two principal themes: aesthetic and meaning. Meaning is the most important to me, but after years of making art, you understand that if your design is unintelligible because of its composition, nobody will get the message. In addition, I choose some parts of my work for the ironic meaning it could have. I try and hide the ugliness of the message in some cases with the use of pastel colours.
I would hope that people are attracted by the colours, composition, and irony. After that initial attraction, they’re able to dive into the deeper message.

Tell us about your relationship with football. You are based in Lyon, but which team do you follow? What made you want to use your artwork to express your passion for the game?

That’s a touchy question. I have lived in Lyon for decades but as far as football goes, my heart belongs to Les Verts of Saint Etienne - Lyon’s greatest enemy. For many years, winning the derby often comes as a surprise! But one that gets me some respect for at least a week in the office.
I have always worked on sports as a basis for my artwork. But I initially had to wait some years, until magazines and websites were open to the idea of mixing sport and art. Magazines like So Foot in France were among the first to mix football, art and society.

Talk to us about the Aureole exhibition. Where did the inspiration for those works come from? Do you think in 500 years time that we will look back on famous football images in the same way as those Renaissance paintings?

The Aureole exhibition was set up with the P2J.fr podcast for the launch of the 2018 World Cup. I had previously worked with them in the designing their website and some other artwork. In this particular exhibition, we tried to imagine how the world might look if football had always been around.
I found it funny to remix these classic works of art to include soccer paraphernalia or linking them to football events. For that series, I dived into my footballing memories.

I’m not so sure that our footballing memories will still be there in 500 years. It has changed so much, even since the 70’s. It’s everywhere now, to the point where it may have lost something. When I was younger, I was happy to watch whatever was selected for TV that week. It left much to the imagination. Now you can follow multiple divisions in any country in the world. Ultimately, I think the mythology around players and their epic moments could never be the same, which is unfortunate.

And finally, a question we try to ask all of our interviewees: How do you feel about the modern game? Is there enough room for artists on the pitch today?

There was and there will always be artists on the pitch. Even after the 90s, where the artists amongst the physical players stood out more, there are still artists today. My main regret about the modern game is paradoxical: there are so many games, and the quality is so high, that I can overdose on football!

You can dive deeper into SLip’s artwork by visiting his website https://www.iamslip.com or by checking out his famous collages on his Instagram - @iamslip.

Surrealism and Saint Etienne: The Culture Division meets SLip