I think I've hit the Summer of 2014 pretty hard in regards to doing things I'd been meaning
to get around to doing, and following my own interests as an illustrator/person who loves art.
So here's a breakdown of a few highlights...
Edinburgh Fringe Festival Visit
I wound up at the Edinburgh Fringe, and whilst watching the performances, some excellent,
some dire, remembered one of the reasons that I started drawing in the first place as a child.
I'm a firm believer in "Wit" which I associate as being the most important part of an illustrator;
having a spin, an edge, or a take on your work that through being an honest reflection of your beliefs,
creates something purely unique, and evokes a "smile in the mind" in your spectators; appreciation.
I'm still a firm believer in integrity, and can't see my work being compatible with
"tea cup" disposable illustrator styles on display in Kath Kidston, or drawing cats and flowers.
This isn't a comment on the quality of my work, but how personally I am prepared to present my style and be held emotionally accountable for my work.
I remembered that my influences have always been integral to my work. Drama, Theatre, Comedy,
Poetry and film in particular came to light at the Fringe. I reconnected with my "wit" in some ways.
My passion for the dark, the psychedelic, the macabre and gallows humor is something that I
want to fix to my work this 2nd year, which was discouraged at foundation in favor of "fitting the brief" and not taking risks.
(Photographs from the expedition)
The Giant Canvas
Early on in the Summer, I realized that I hadn't painted properly in a year. Working first hand with colour, and not from a back-lit computer screen is something I'm still coming to terms with in regards to colour-blindness. Perception of colour fascinates me, and I don't even feel remotely "impaired" or at a disadvantage to others. With this, I can appreciate psychedelic work in a world of my own, which I think is a gift.
I started working on a giant canvas, taking elements of trash culture and spirituality and creating a wholly unique, imagined composition. An almost morbid fascination with the occult, paranormal, spiritual and deathly is something that's stayed with me since I began putting pen to paper, and I don't think it's in any danger of leaving me any time soon.
I made it my mission to paint this piece as an on-going project, something I could really let myself
go on, and create something that I was totally in control of, instead of brief based/commission work.
(Still a work in progress)
Jimmy Getaway & The Friends Album Illustration
I was contacted again by a previous client about creating some more work for their band/artistic project. After producing a tour poster, and a working logo, it was an honor given to me to design their first release this time, an album. Having worked with artwork for bands since I was about 13, this is an area I love, and have always wanted to go into.
I was given alot of creative freedom, based on a working relationship established with the last commission, and them being satisfied that I would deliver a good, strong piece that they could relate to artistically and put out there happily.
As usual, I took a holistic approach to the work, I spent 3 days listening to the work, sketching, and playing along so I could get a gritty feel for the album. My work tends to be at it's strongest when I let my obsessive nature take over, and exhaust myself.
I created something that I'm very proud of, and still consider designing the front-cover of albums to be a privilege. It's a meeting-of-the-minds, and negotiating/working with another artist from a different discipline and respecting their creative wishes is something I pride myself on. Neither of us would be content if the other were not.
David Shrigley Exhibition
My cultural highlight of the time I spent on the break getting back in touch with my roots was the David Shrigley exhibition in Edinburgh. I have huge respect for his application of wit, his un-pretentiousness, his narrative voice, and his dark humor. Seeing his work in the flesh for the first time was a huge experience for me and I took away alot of inspiration concerning fine-tuning my own narrative voice.
I hate people taking photos of themselves with other people's work but my Mum insisted:
" And if these pictures have anything important to say to future generations, it's this: I was here. I existed. I was young, I was happy, and someone cared enough about me in this world to take my picture." Sy Parrish (Robin Williams) - One Hour Photo
Christine Borland's "L'homme Double"
One of the most influential exhibitions I've seen was this. The artist commisioned six others to sculpt
the Nazi doctor/surgeon Josef Mengele based on contradictory first-hand accounts of what he looked like. It was the content, more than the style that struck me hard, and still resonates with me.
Having studied the holocaust previously, and the politics at the time, I'd encountered him before in books. Dubbed "The Angel of Death" in modern times, Mengele performed operations without anesthetic on captives in concentration camps, almost exclusively on twins, and those viewed to be "degenerate" in pursuit of "Eugenics". He was truly a monster, and a fiend that could only exist in a nightmare.
This exhibition was about so much more than shock. To see the face, of a man described as "good-looking" by accounts of witnesses given in the gallery, and know what atrocities he committed was deeply unsettling. I found the exhibition extremely intimidating.
This exhibition put me back in touch with fear. Appreciating and feeling it, rather than illustrating the macabre for somebody else to appreciate. The experience was humanizing, and the empathy for those
who had seen this face before was chilling.
Something Old, Something New
Beyond sentimentality, I looked back on work I had created anywhere for A-Level to my first drawings of graveyards, monsters and Scooby-Doo inspired work (still, unashamedly, one of my biggest and most significant influences since I was small!) to see what had changed.
I wanted to look back before I started thinking about the future.
I spent a few days mulling over old work, sorting it, scanning it, and trying to make sense of
myself and how I used to see the world.
I learnt that not everything that's in the attic necessarily gathers dust.
Notes from a train
I spent a long time on trains, travelling between London and Winchester, my hometown. I remembered the reportage aspect of the first year, and how I felt drawing legitimized people-watching; making observations that were social, cultural, and political. Not just "skin-deep" portraits
of people with the most interesting faces.
I kept my small, leather-bound black book at hand everyday for the best part of a month, flowing
ideas into it from various parts of the city that I found myself in at night especially. Although most of the observations were abstract, I found my funk bringing elements of the mundane and the surreal together, under my application of narrative voice. And the bizarre, which fascinates me.
From book to canvas
Upon being asked to show my book around one night, I ended up translating a piece that escaped me from my small journal of musings onto a canvas to decorate a new flat. Although it was only a small gesture, and hardly life changing, It made me think about my work more objectively. Work that I thought was pulp, and disposable, people appreciated enough to hang on their wall. It put things in perspective for me, and affirmed that I must be doing something somewhere with the scribbles.
Cartoons and shit
One night I found myself watching old cartoons again, after a night out with friends. I picked up a pen and paper, and over the next few days a whole stream of subverted characters flowed out. Having
been going to shows since I was about 12, seeing Hardcore/Metal bands and collecting my scars from the shows, and pits, I wanted to pay homage to the people I'd see around me in the shit, damp venues.
