The French artist and photographer JR — known for his enormous murals of faces and ambitious projects that seek to transcend boundaries, both physical and human — already has co-starred in (and co-directed) the Oscar-nominated documentary Faces Places. But the late filmmaker Agnès Varda, his co-star and co-director on the project, told him he should follow it up with a new film.
“Agnes had always told me, ‘You need to show more of your process and she was always pushing me that I show more of the layers of how the projects happen,” says the New York- and Paris-based artist.
He’s done just that in the new documentary he’s directed, Paper & Glue, which opens in theaters this weekend in Los Angeles. It provides a deeper look at four of the artist’s most moving projects. There’s the mural he created on the yard of the California Correctional Institute (also known as Tehachapi Prison), which portrays 48 incarcerated individuals, and the large-scale portrait of a toddler, Kikito, erected on scaffolding in Mexico in 2017, where the child appeared to peer over the U.S.-Mexico border wall.
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In the Morro da Providência favela in Rio de Janeiro (starting in 2008), JR plastered images of women who help life persevere in the neighborhood amid drug dealing and violence, part of his Women are Heroes series. The film also takes viewers to Les Bosquets, a ghetto that arose amid abandoned buildings in the suburbs of Paris and which erupted in riots in 2005. In that project, titled Portraits of a Generation, his images humanized the people at the center of the violent clashes.
What’s explored in these filmic portraits of his portrait-based works is that they demonstrate that art truly can be transformative, especially for some of the individuals involved.
One of those people is Kevin Walsh, who was photographed for the prison project showing the prominent swastika tattoo that he had on his face. Over the last couple of years, JR and Walsh stayed in touch. A few days ago, Walsh was released from prison and JR spent the last week with him documenting the transition. One of the first things Walsh wanted to do was have the offensive tattoo, which he regrets getting, removed. On Nov. 18, Walsh was present and spoke at an L.A. screening of Paper & Glue at the Museum of Tolerance, appearing with a large band-aid on his face after treatment to remove the tattoo.
Angelina Jolie spoke as well at the screening, putting JR’s work into context this way: “In so much of culture today art is synonymous with money … The film you are about to see will remind you of the other side of art. Art as it is supposed to be: art that belongs to the people and sees the beauty and originality in all people. Art arising from and created on the streets. That places in all cultures that nobody owns. Art that is shared, not possessed. Creativity that isn’t corporate. I was reminded watching the film that the most revolutionary thing anyone can do in our world is to bring people together.”
Over a lunch in Venice, California, on Nov. 15 at Gjusta restaurant, JR — who wears dark sunglasses and a hat in public to shield his identity — spoke with THR about his work, including the art schools and the restaurant he has started, as well as how everything fits into his overall mission.
Produced by MSNBC Films, Imagine, Time and Impact Partners, Paper & Glue — which also includes early footage of JR spray painting as a teenager in the subways of Paris — will air on MSNBC on Dec. 10.
How did you first gain access to Tehachapi Prison to work with the prisoners there on a mural?
I didn’t want to work in a prison. A friend of mine was trying to get me into this, but I said, “It’s too complicated to have paperwork.” So my friend called [film producer and prison-reform advocate] Scott Budnick. And Scott called the Governor [Gavin Newsom]. And the governor of California said, “I don’t understand. Who is this French guy? I don’t know what you’re talking about.” And [Budnick] said, “He’s called JR.”
“Oh wait [said Newsom] before I was governor, I was in a mural that ended up in SFMOMA. Is that the same artist?” So[Newsom] said, “Give him the full clearance for every prison in California.”
How did you decide on Tehachapi?
I needed a prison where, just technically speaking, I need concrete on the floor. I can’t paste on the sand or on grass and most of the yards are like that. So then we looked on Google Earth and decided to go there. Literally, two days later I was there.
You also documented the stories of many of the incarcerated individuals on social media and on your JR Murals app. Did the art project have any effect on the people who participated?
The project had a big impact there. So one-third of them have been freed and the totality of them, the group we’ve seen there, have been moved to another prison that’s lower security. It literally has changed every single one of them.
You know what happened when we released this thing [the JR Murals app]. One guy told us by recording my story and then putting it out there online, my family got to hear it and my kid never came and visited me in 18 years and now she comes and visits me every week because I could never speak to her in the visiting room in front of everybody and cry like I did doing this recording. A few of them had that exact same story — reconnecting with their family. They were reconnecting with the outside. Some left gangs. Doing that project was for them a life-changing thing.
And then there’s the guards reconnecting with the inmates in a way because they said in the audio that they saw them as animals. They say it so casually. It’s not even like a scoop; that’s how the system is built. So it was actually very moving to see that. And the warden said we had a huge positive impact. The guards started talking with the inmates.
There were also people who came because they have been affected by crime. There was this father who lost his son, killed by one of the gangs in this prison. The killer was not in this prison. He came and he pasted with everybody. You heard him talk. It moved you more than everything. He said, “You are better than that guys. I lost my son because of an act of violence and I’ll never get my son’s life back. But now I have a chance to forgive. So I came to forgive you.” So he would give them this boost of energy. These guys couldn’t believe that this guy had the balls to go back in and look at them in the eyes. It was really, really moving.
You’ve also secured permission to help start an art program at Tehachapi.
We got the confirmation to start it right before COVID, with inmates teaching other inmates.
You also have two art schools that you’ve started, one in France and one in the favela in Brazil where you worked. How is the one in Rio de Janeiro faring?
It’s still going. It’s 11 years. We’re building across from it another little house so that the school can be bigger. It’s the only place in that favela to learn culture or anything. It hasn’t changed much; it’s still crime and guns. They’ve tried to pacify it but it hasn’t worked. But we’ve stayed steady and we’ve been able to operate and continue. Eleven years later, we’re still there but we can also not be there tomorrow. You never know. It’s very fragile. Like if a drug dealer comes and says, that’s my house now, that’s it. But they never did and they never brought any weapons in it. We’ve been very lucky.
Are you still in touch with the woman in Mexico, shown in the film, whose toddler took part in the border project?
Yes, we’re in touch. I receive photos of the baby Kikito. That was the first door we knocked at and she said that when we came back to sign the authorization for the baby to be there, she said, “Well, people came to me and said you should get paid for this.” And she said, “No, you don’t understand. This is my son being the face of all those children, of all of us. It has nothing to do with money.” She said, “I don’t even want to go live in the U.S. I’m happy here.” She’s studying at university. She was really special. We’ll stay in touch the rest of our lives.
A few years back, you created a mural of a man’s face in downtown L.A. at the Angel City Brewery. Is it still there?
The brewery is still up. The story is really funny because it’s a [project] called Wrinkles of the City. I go and find people with wrinkles and connect with the wrinkles of the city in Cuba, in Istanbul, in Cartagena, Spain, in China. In each place, I go either to a retirement house or I go to a park to find the old people. Coming to L.A., I had the hardest time finding wrinkles. At some point, we had to post an ad on L.A. Casting. So we had a lot of background actors that are retired … who make extra money when they’re 80, 90 in the background of Titanic, all of those big movies. And that man I think he was one of them. And beautiful face. What was funny is that even though I wrote that it’s not a paid job, we had some 40-year-olds show up and say, “Well, I thought maybe…”
And on top of your art, you also run a restaurant in Paris?
It exists for four years called Reffetorio. We serve the homeless and refugees with waste food. We get Michelin star chefs to cook and we serve it on porcelain plates in a beautiful space for free. We scaled it up during COVID, doing thousands of meals a day where normally we were doing only a hundred.
What has it been like to become so well-known as an artist?
It’s funny. I don’t feel I’ve become well known. Most of the time I’m without my hat and glasses.
And people don’t recognize you without your signature hat and glasses?
It’s a disguise and if you take it off, then no one ever sees you. So I don’t lead this life of someone well known.
What was your first job?
When I was 12, I started unloading trucks on street markets and I did that for six years, straight from 12 to 18 to make pocket money.
What were your ambitions when you started as an artist?
For me, one piece has led to another. I didn’t know there was an art world. I didn’t know you could be an artist and show in a gallery and that you could make movies. I was never an ambitious artist.
So many artists are approached by brands these days to do collaborations. Have you ever considered doing one?
I don’t work with brands. I don’t work with governments. Everything is pretty independent and totally free. [Brands] keep asking. They keep coming but I’m not interested. They come with big money. I understand why artists do it. I’m like, “Wait, why don’t I just do my work?” I made it all this way, do I need them? It’s really this question you have to ask yourself. What people don’t realize is that when you do this kind of collaboration, all of that time is time you don’t spend in a maximum-security prison working with people.
Over and over again, your work confronts and looks at all of the inequality in the world. Do you think these issues will ever improve?
I’ll quote Agnes [Varda] on this because I remember the discussion very clearly with her here in L.A. and she would say something that stays with me: “As artists, we have to remain utopists, no matter what. Continue to believe in utopia. Keep the positivity because there’s no other way.”
