Holy Smoke!

Skull masks, smoke grenades, bright suits… These are the trademarks of BUTCH LOCSIN, one of the world’s most exciting new performance artists. Here, the Angeleno explains the value of patience, why death should be celebrated, and how set-backs can inspire creativity

Words: Florian Obkircher

Photos: Franciscus Lanudjaja, Hector Landeros, Butch Locsin

Rusty rail tankers rest on abandoned tracks in downtown East Los Angeles. It’s likely the graffiti artists who adorned the deteriorating exteriors of these wagons with now-faded tags were the last people to visit this place. Before today, that is. Right now, there’s a crowd of about 80 photographers crammed together in a line, cameras at the ready, as if waiting for a Hollywood celebrity to show up.

Instead, a man in a green Day of the Dead-style skull mask decorated with sunflowers leaps into the frame. He’s holding two smoke grenades – one orange, one purple – attached to short ropes, which he swings in the air while dancing towards the snapping photographers, creating a wild and colourful spectacle.

After 10 minutes, a police car shows up. A resident living nearby called them, thinking there was a fire, the mysterious skeleton-headed figure reveals later. Two cops approach him. “That’s it for today!” one of the snappers whispers to another, but they make no attempt to interrupt the show. Instead, when it’s over, one of the cops approaches the man in the mask and says. “I follow you on Instagram. You’re so cool!”

For the past two years, artist Butch Locsin, aka the Skeleton of Colour, has been putting on semi-secret performances all over his hometown of LA. Videos of these displays have gone viral, and the 31-year-old is now a rising star on the performance art scene. Recently, CNN youth channel Great Big Story produced a video profile of Locsin, which attracted more than half a million clicks in just a few months, and emo-rock superstars Fall Out Boy hired him to perform in the video for their 2017 song Hold Me Tight Or Don’t. All this despite the fact he never intended to become a performance artist at all.

The Red Bulletin: Your career has skyrocketed in the last two years. But who were you before you became performance art’s wunderkind?

Butch Locsin: I was a personal trainer, working in a gym. But then five years ago I decided I wanted to further my education, so I started going to community college. Instead of picking a course related to physical therapy, though, I took art classes, because I love painting. But a lot of my family members and long-time friends had no idea about my artistic passion.

How did you find your feet in the art scene?

It was tough at first. I thought my classmates were a lot better than me, so I would compare my skills to theirs. But then, after a while, I realised that art is always subjective. If you look at a late-period Picasso and then at his earlier work, they’re just two different types of drawing. I realised that the most important thing was to find my own unique style.

How did you do that?

In my case, limitations have driven my creativity. Life is all about recognising your problems and then finding creative solutions to them. I wasn’t given anything on a gold spoon; I didn’t have the best camera. But I knew I could make a killer mask, so I did.

And subsequently you turned yourself into the Skeleton of Colour…

When I went to art class, I figured out I wanted to have some iconography that would serve as the voice of my artwork. Growing up in Los Angeles, Hispanic culture is everywhere, and the tradition of the Day of the Dead has just always really resonated with me – specifically the sugar skull.

What is it in particular that you find most inspiring?

Most people look at the skull as something negative, something related to death – which it is – but the Day of the Dead culture sees the skull as a symbol celebrating the life of the deceased. It’s a positive reminder of what happens to us and what we will become. I love contrasts: life and death, complementary colours – they’re essential to my art and my performances.

How did you get into performing?

Actually, it was never my intention to become a performance artist. I just wanted photos of my skulls, of my outfits and the smoke, so that I could convey them onto the canvas myself. Then a friend invited me to a photo meet [a weekly gathering for photographers, held at various locations in LA]. Usually, it was mostly models who would show up [to have their picture taken], but when I arrived there in full gear, the 200 photographers in attendance were very excited about shooting my performance. They loved it and posted the pictures on Instagram. From there, it spread like wildfire.

And you kept going…

Exactly. Two years ago, I’d go to these meetings every week, always showing up with a new mask, trying to do something different. It forced me to be creative, really pushing me to keep improving and perfecting my art. So far, I’ve done more than 80 performances at photo meets all over Los Angeles.

Does wearing the mask transform you into someone else?

I get a real big high from performing in front of a crowd. I was in denial for a while, thinking the guy behind the mask is the same guy who’s in front of it, but that’s not true. A mask turns you into a different person; in my case, a more empowered one. A person who has the confidence to perform in front of hundreds of photographers.

Do you remember the first skull mask you made?

It took me two weeks to make. It was a bronze/gold-ish colour and kind of simplistic in its design. Some of my masks have a lot of detail, but I keep the vast majority simple. The main material I work with is Styrofoam. The heaviest mask weighs two pounds [almost 1kg], but most are light as a feather, which helps with the performance. The first one I made, the jaw broke off and I wasn't able to repair it. But after that I figured it out. Now I have 35.

How much do you sell them for?

I don’t.

You’re an artist who doesn’t sell his art?

I realised very early on that the mask was the key element that separated me from anybody else out there. It’s my trademark. If I had sold them off early on in my career, I might not be the figure I am today. My advice is: if you have a good thing going for you and it’s the one thing that sets you apart, keep it to yourself.

Sounds good on paper, but how do you make money?

Not selling the masks was a risk, but it went in my favour. In the beginning, I just wanted photos as references for my drawings, then suddenly the performance thing took off, and now the floodgates have opened for me. Instead of selling my artwork – my skulls or my paintings – which is something I still want to do at some point, I get offers to appear in music videos and do advertisements and brand collaborations. I guess that shows how important it is to wait for the right opportunity rather than just the first one.

Instagram: @butch_locsin_from_la