This interview forms part of a broader reflection on transformative artistic practices and their capacity to question our relationships with the world, territories and ecosystems. Patrick Degeorges speaks with the artist Yan Tomaszewski, whose work explores the connections between art, ritual and environment through engaged and immersive projects. The interview focuses in particular on his projects around ex-votos and the River Seine, as well as his ongoing research on the Rhône, highlighting the ritual, symbolic and social dimensions of his approach.
Throughout the conversation, Yan reflects on the different stages of his projects, his collaborations with collectives and scientists, the implementation of performances and rituals, as well as the financial and institutional challenges associated with this type of practice. The interview offers insight into his vision of art as an indirect influence on imaginaries and as a potential lever for social and environmental transformation, without seeking to produce immediate or pre-planned effects.
Patrick Degeorges:
To begin simply, what led you to commit yourself to an artistic practice?
Yan Tomaszewski:
My background is quite dual. I first pursued literary studies — preparatory classes, extensive reading, and a strong interest in literature, philosophy and anthropology. At the same time, I began practising photography. This led me to enter art school with a photographic practice, so I have always pursued literary studies and artistic practice in parallel.
I then embarked on a PhD in art history. However, this proved to be a complicated experience: it was a conventional academic doctorate, not a practice-based one. Purely academic methods did not suit me, and the project I had chosen gradually turned into an artistic project, pushing the thesis itself into the background. This experience helped me to understand that research remains fundamental to my projects, but that I need to embody it and put it to the test. I find it difficult to work in a purely abstract way: I need to experience ideas and confront them with different realities.
My approach therefore combines methods inherited from my literary training — field exploration, reading, cross-referencing sources — with the production of concrete forms or situations. It is this combination of reflection and experimentation that defines my practice.
Patrick Degeorges:
Could you illustrate this with your early works, to give substance to this approach?
Yan Tomaszewski:
My doctoral project focused on Polish Constructivism of the 1920s, an artistic movement that combined political engagement with the social utility of art. I was particularly interested in Mieczysław Szczuka, an artist and communist activist, passionate about mountaineering, who died during a climb in the Tatra Mountains.
My project revolved around the reconstruction of his works, which had disappeared during the war. Based on very limited photographic documentation, I reproduced a whole series of sculptures, models and prototypes in the spirit of Tatlin. I also symbolically re-enacted his final ascent, filmed on 16 mm, introducing an element of mystification: what was original, and what was recreated? This approach proved convincing enough that I was invited by the Museum of Łódź to present these “rediscovered” works.
Before that, I had begun with photography, in a more documentary and sensitive approach, somewhere between Cartier-Bresson and Depardon: I walked a great deal, travelled, and captured images in the field. I practised photography for a long time, but gradually moved away from it when I entered art school. Today, I work extensively with film, often producing the images myself, which closes the loop with this initial relationship to image-making and framing.
Patrick Degeorges:
And how did your relationship with living environments and ecosystems develop in your work?
Yan Tomaszewski:
It really took shape through a project on the River Seine, which I began in 2020. I often work from imaginaries, archetypes or symbols that make it possible to grasp a set of complex realities. For the Seine, the starting point was a symbol omnipresent in Paris: the figure of Fluctuat nec mergitur — “She is tossed by the waves but does not sink.” This emblem evokes a fluvial past and sometimes dangerous navigation, yet paradoxically the Seine today is a highly domesticated presence, almost decorative, far removed from the impetuosity suggested by this symbol.
Starting from this paradox, I began to explore the history and representations of the river, which led me to discover the ex-votos dedicated to Sequana at the sources of the Seine. These objects fascinated me: they testified to a ritual relationship with the river, an exchange with nature, and a form of collective attention that contrasts sharply with our contemporary relationship to it. I saw in them another image of the social body, a model in which the river is not merely a backdrop or a resource, but a partner in interaction and ritual.
This ritual dimension became structuring in my practice. The ex-votos showed me how past societies had constructed forms of exchange and dialogue with their environment. They also led me to reflect on the rights of nature and the earliest legal approaches to recognising natural entities, often linked to Indigenous peoples and to relationships of attachment, ancestry or personification.
In a secular and largely desacralised context such as France, I asked myself how a connection to the river might be reactivated today. The aim is not to reproduce these rituals, but to adapt them, to create new forms of interaction. This fits within the continuity of my previous projects, in which I revive or displace practices, ideas or objects from the past in order to explore how they might exist in the present. This is how my project Sequana, centred on ex-votos and the ritual reactivation of relationships with the river, came into being.
Patrick Degeorges:
In your work around ex-votos, what is the relationship with the public? Is your approach aimed at engaging the audience in a participatory ritual, or is it rather a performance in which the public observes without necessarily intervening?
Yan Tomaszewski:
This project indeed takes several different forms. To clarify, the original ex-votos are now housed at the Archaeological Museum of Dijon. They are made of wood, which is exceptional for objects of this age — most wood sculptures that are two thousand years old have not survived. These objects were treated during the excavations of the 1960s, but they remain extremely fragile.
From the outset, I knew that I wanted to film these ex-votos, but access was very limited: they are kept in a climate-controlled room, without light, which makes filming extremely difficult. Out of frustration, I began recreating forms inspired by these objects. This led to a series of charred wooden sculptures representing different parts of the human body, following the logic of ex-votos.
These sculptures were first exhibited at the Jean Collet Gallery in Vitry-sur-Seine. At the end of the exhibition, some of the smaller elements — representing, for example, internal organs — were transformed into activated charcoal. This ultra-absorbent material is used to purify water. The transformation of wood into activated charcoal involves its disintegration, introducing a dimension of sacrifice and deliberate destruction.
The charcoal was then sewn into a kind of shroud, and a performance was organised for Nuit Blanche 2023 at MAC VAL. It involved transporting the larger sculptures to the banks of the Seine, wrapping them in the fabrics containing the activated charcoal, and then immersing them in the river.
The participants were neither performers in the strict sense nor members of the general public: they were people already engaged with the Seine. Some of them reactivate beliefs associated with Sequana in what could be described as a neo-pagan approach; I followed these individuals for a long time at the sources of the Seine. There were also members of the collective Les Gardiens de la Seine¹, including Marine Calmet, a jurist with whom I collaborate on issues related to the legal rights of the river. These participants activated the sculptures, embodying a genuine relationship with the river.
Patrick Degeorges:
And did this performance take place only once?
Yan Tomaszewski:
Yes, exactly. It only happened once.
Patrick Degeorges:
Do you think it could be reproduced, become a true ritual with some degree of regularity?
Yan Tomaszewski:
A ritual does indeed imply repetition and appropriation by its participants. For this specific project, the setup is quite heavy and complex. However, I have explored lighter forms in other contexts, particularly with students.
I led two workshops: one with a preparatory class in Vitry, and another this year at the School of Landscape in Blois, focusing on the Loire. In these workshops, the aim was to produce symbolic ex-votos. The students reflected on what it would mean, for them, to offer an ex-voto to the river they encounter on a daily basis. These approaches, which are more accessible and less demanding to implement, could take root more easily over time and within individual practices.
Patrick Degeorges:
Do you think this type of approach could genuinely give rise to practices of celebration or renewed relationships with rivers?
Yan Tomaszewski:
Yes, I believe it is possible. After the performance at MAC VAL, I collaborated with an activist dancer involved in the collective Le Soulèvement de la Terre² on the Île Saint-Denis. She had discovered this work and wanted to extend it within the context of mobilisation against the Green Docks project³, which could be described as an ecocide on the Seine.
With her company, composed primarily of women, she worked on the ex-votos of Sequana in a very different way, through dance. They developed choreographic forms to symbolically “offer” different parts of the body to the river, dancing in the water or along the riverbank. We visited the museum in Dijon together, and they built their work from that experience.
Their performance was accompanied by a Carnyx player — an ancient Celtic instrument that I had also invited to take part in the MAC VAL performance. The two projects differ in their modalities but also share certain similarities. This illustrates well how these practices can circulate, transform and be reinterpreted according to contexts and participants.
Patrick Degeorges:
When you responded to the call for projects for the COAL Prize 2024 on transformative artistic practices, you recognised yourself in this approach. For you, what are these transformative artistic practices?
Yan Tomaszewski:
For me, they primarily concern the transformation of imaginaries. It seems to me that in order to produce political or social change, worldviews must first evolve. And this transformation passes through representations, rituals and forms that allow these imaginaries to be embodied.
I often cite the example of Le Soulèvement de la Terre: this movement has breathed new life into activism by mobilising imaginaries and embodying a different relationship to the world. I had the opportunity to take part in working groups with them, some of which were specifically dedicated to questions of representation, myth and imagination. What particularly interests me is this articulation between a transformation of our relationship to the world and political action. In a way, this echoes the questions raised by Constructivism about the role of art: is art entirely autonomous, or can it, through its forms and its autonomy, indirectly contribute to change?
Patrick Degeorges:
And regarding your work on the Seine, have you explored other fields or projects where you continue this link between research and creation? Do you imagine yourself intervening in specific territorial contexts, where art can activate effects within these environments?
Yan Tomaszewski:
Not entirely. I do not consider myself an activist artist. However, working with politically engaged people interests me greatly: I can bring my perspective and contribute, in my own way, to a broader movement. This political dimension is important in my work, but I do not claim the status of an activist artist.
The project on the Seine is still ongoing, but I am also working on a new project related to the Rhône, which once again explores questions of representation. On the Seine, I was particularly interested in the figure of the Saints on Octaone — representations of saints fighting reptilian or serpentine monsters, symbolising the river in its dangerous aspects. I worked with a mythologist who analysed, along different French rivers, the presence of local saints in chapels located in flood-prone areas. He showed that this figure appears systematically in such zones, marking a transition from collaboration with the river to its domination and canalisation, while demonising its natural characteristics.
On the Seine, I also followed scientists studying eel migrations. I am very interested in eels: their serpentine bodies and symbolic dimension link them to the biblical serpent, and these migratory fish suffer greatly from the artificialisation of rivers. On the Rhône, I am exploring the historical “corrections” of the river, which since the nineteenth century have aimed to straighten its course in order to prevent flooding and control it. This led me to draw a parallel between these modern interventions and a medieval trial from the thirteenth century, in which the eels of the Rhône were excommunicated, considered diabolically associated with water and dangerous for fishermen.
As part of this project, I imagined a trial staged on a hydraulic model of the Rhône at a scale of 1:30, where water circulates as it does in the real river, in order to explore the technical and moral dimensions of the “correction” of its course. I worked with scientists who create “robot eels” to study their swimming. In this project, a scientist appears as a character coming from the future — from a time when eels have almost disappeared — and introduces these robots. This raises symbolic questions about the disappearance of a species and about the means of preserving traces of, or symbolically resurrecting, what is disappearing.
What also interests me is that, in medieval trials, even when animals were accused, they were summoned as equal entities: a bailiff would go to the riverbank to “call and speak with” the eels. If they did not appear, a puppet would represent them. This procedure shows that the boundaries between human and non-human were more fluid, and it introduces an idea of dialogue that I seek to reactivate today.
This resonates with my work on the ex-votos of the Seine. After their immersion in the river, the activated charcoal from the ex-votos was analysed in a laboratory to identify the molecules it had absorbed. With the collective Les Gardiens de la Seine, we organised a fictional “trial” at the Carnavalet Museum, in which the Seine itself “judged” humans. The ex-votos served as pieces of evidence, and the scientists who had analysed the absorbed molecules intervened as expert witnesses. Dialogue was central: Sequana, the river, spoke through sound translated by an interpreter, embodying a relationship of exchange and response. This dimension of dialogue, recognition and co-presence between humans and non-humans deeply interests me, and it structures my projects.
Patrick Degeorges:
Looking at your practice, what stands out to me is that you always begin with a phase of investigation and immersion in a subject or environment. But this is not an immersive, resident-based approach in the strict sense: you are not seeking to carry out an exhaustive inquiry with local populations, but rather to deepen a particular issue or question, often alongside people who are already deeply engaged and passionate. This then takes shape through performances or actions. However, these projects can also generate other forms, such as the trial you described. At those moments, do you engage a broader public? How do you integrate the social and transformative dimension into your practice?
Yan Tomaszewski:
All of my projects always include a public dimension. For the performance with the ex-votos, there was an audience present. For the fictional trial with Marine Calmet, there were around one hundred people in the room. My film on the correction of the Rhône was then screened at documentary film festivals. But if your question concerns the active participation of the public, I do not have a structured dispositif that compels spectators to intervene or to extend the action themselves.
I work rather through indirect action: my projects mobilise different actors, stimulate attention and nourish imaginaries. I believe that art acts upon ways of seeing and thinking, even if not in an immediate or planned manner. For example, the issue of rivers and their rights is now more present in public debate, with initiatives such as the Citizens’ Convention on the Rights of the Seine in Paris. I cannot establish a direct cause-and-effect relationship, but these questions become visible, embodied, and they influence collective consciousness.
One concrete example: the Green Docks project near Gennevilliers was due to begin construction. Thanks to various forms of mobilisation — some more conventional, others more symbolic, such as the work on the ex-votos or the collective construction of the Sequana hydra — the project was delayed. These are diffuse, emergent effects, difficult to quantify scientifically, but they do exist.
I am not seeking to create a mechanical impact: I conceive my role as that of a catalyst, influencing imaginaries and contributing to a gentle, indirect transformation. The impact of a work is not necessarily immediate or measurable; it spreads and resonates within broader dynamics, sometimes taken up and extended by others, sometimes in unpredictable ways.
Patrick Degeorges:
That leads to another question I could have asked you, concerning the challenges and the funding of the work. These projects take time, require investigation, and go far beyond a simple event-based performance. There is an entire process around them, and what follows afterwards. In terms of production, have you encountered particular difficulties, beyond your work as an artist, in implementing practices that engage territorial dynamics?
Yan Tomaszewski:
I think the financial question concerns all artists, especially those whose practices do not fit within the market. As far as I am concerned, I manage to carry out my projects by combining different sources of funding. I do a great deal of residencies and stack multiple forms of support. For example, the performance at MAC VAL was funded on a one-off basis by the museum. I have also carried out projects with the Ateliers Médicis through their Création en cours programme.
On the other hand, financing the film on Sequana — which retraces all these stages — is much more complicated. I am working with producers on the cinema side, and it remains difficult. I sometimes wonder whether this is linked to the ritual dimension of the project. It is not hostility as such, but I know it can block certain people on selection committees. Within the art world, it is better accepted, but in the film sector it is more problematic.
Patrick Degeorges:
Perhaps because of the content itself — because it deals with a ritual, its construction and its implementation?
Yan Tomaszewski:
Yes, that is a possibility. I cannot be certain, but based on the feedback we receive, it sometimes makes people uncomfortable.
Patrick Degeorges:
Do you think this is linked to the French context, which is very secularised, where there are only official republican rituals and where other cultural or spiritual rituals are rarely recognised?
Yan Tomaszewski:
I do not think it is quite that conscious or binary. But in any case, I know that when it comes to funding, it does create problems.
Patrick Degeorges:
Is this circumstantial, or is it rather linked to a deeper cultural issue, to the kind of change these projects imply?
Yan Tomaszewski:
No, it is not just circumstantial. In several contexts related to the film project, I encountered strong forms of resistance, particularly concerning the rituals that take place at the sources of the Seine. Even today, this continues to block certain people.
Patrick Degeorges:
And yet it is fascinating… I did not know that you were carrying out rituals in this context. It makes one want to discover them, to encounter these practices. Do you think these are mainly institutional resistances?
Yan Tomaszewski:
Yes, it is often at the institutional level. Within committees — for example at the CNC — there are different individuals, each with their own perspective. They try to be objective, but there are blockages.
Patrick Degeorges:
And they speak on behalf of institutions, they are the ones who officially decide? In your experience, it is often the leadership or elected officials who can hold back this type of approach, rather than local inhabitants.
Yan Tomaszewski:
Yes, I think so.
Patrick Degeorges:
Well, I think we have covered most of it. Thank you very much for your time. I am very much looking forward to seeing the film.
Yan Tomaszewski:
Likewise, thank you very much.
¹ Les Gardiens de la Seine is a collective made up of researchers, legal experts, artists, and committed citizens working to protect and enhance the river. The collective strives for greater legal and ecological recognition of the Seine by combining awareness-raising initiatives, artistic projects, and participatory approaches with local residents and stakeholders. Among its members, Marine Calmet, a legal specialist in Seine-related rights, regularly collaborates with artists and scientists to document and experiment with new forms of dialogue between society and the river.
² Le Soulèvement de la Terre is a collective for environmental and artistic activism that works to defend territories and ecosystems against destructive projects. It organises mobilisations, symbolic actions, and artistic creations to engage the public and decision-makers, combining research, art, and political commitment. The collective focuses in particular on the representation of rivers and biodiversity, exploring forms of collective participation and symbolic rituals to raise awareness and transform collective imaginaries.
³ The Green Dock project aims to redevelop an outdated logistics site on the inland port of Gennevilliers, on the edge of a Natura 2000 zone. This project, described as ecocidal by some collectives and associations, has sparked citizen and artistic mobilisations to protect local ecosystems and the river’s biodiversity. Actions around Green Dock combine awareness-raising, artistic mediation, and environmental activism to question the relationships between urban development and the preservation of natural habitats.
