la revolution digitale
interview conducted up for the Tokyo exibition
// phofa.net (japan), March 2008
:: taken from online version published here
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— Who and/or what were your inspirations during your childhood?
I don’t remember being particularly ‘inspired’ by anything whilst I was a child; I copied a lot of pictures from comic books, I drew immensely long invented housing estates on rolls of old computer paper, and I made housing estates out of bricks and leftover cement on the edge of a building site. I didn’t really know about other artists, but I vaguely remember doing a jigsaw of a John Constable painting. I later found out it was a painting called ‘The Cornfield’; I still love Constable’s paintings, so it must have had some sort of resonance. When I was a bit older my parents bought a reproduction of an Aktinson Grimshaw painting from Woolworths which I spent hours looking at. Grimshaw was a Victorian artist who, as far as I know, specialized in almost photo-realistic depictions of romantic moonlit scenes.
— What prompted you to start drawing art?
I can only say that it was the same primal instinct that makes everyone draw when they’re a child, as long as they get the chance. The same impulse that ensures our walls are painted with graffiti, that people doodle on notebooks. It wasn’t anything special or unique.
— What is your definition of art? What is your philosophy regarding art?
That’s a strange question. I don’t have a definition that I apply to ‘art’. Art, as far as I’m concerned, can be anything at all if someone says that it is. Is the design of the computer I’m typing this on ‘art’? I imagine that the designer might think so. I think graffiti is art, whilst other people call it vandalism, or even crime. So my philosophy regarding art, insofar as I even have one, is that art is a mutable concept, and in the end it’s up to the individual to decide. Look what happens when a philosophy of art becomes concrete; you get absolute definitions decided by politicians. The Nazi Party decided that some ‘art’ was ‘degenerate’, and some wasn’t. They thought they were right; but all they were doing was applying totalitarian principles to something utterly abstract.
— Did you ever experience anything extraordinary by engaging in art? If you have a specific episode, please tell us in details.
Art has taken me to some strange places and the pursuit of ideas has led me to interpret the world in some strange ways. It enables me to live deep within my mind. A strange and quite funny time was when me and Dr Tchock decided to attempt to paint at the top of a mountain, using only shades of blue paint applied with knives to canvas. The weather became quite extreme, but we continued to paint as the fog surrounded us and rain lashed down. The noise of the wind was ferocious, and when we decided that our paintings were as finished as they were ever going to get we had to get off the mountain. This was very difficult, due to the fog, and due to the fact that we had to carry large canvases covered in wet paint down the freezing rocks. We were also very embarrassed at doing something so stupid, so we planned to run in opposite directions in the extremely unlikely event of meeting a hiker out there.
— Conversely, what was your biggest challenge in Art?
That is every time I start something new. Every time.
— Within your artworks, we understand that you'd like to combine your personal and political emotions with modesty and humour. Has this always been the case? What other themes do you aspire to? Or do you always need a theme in your creations?
I think that I do need a theme. I don’t have much faith in individual works that I do; I always think that a sort of concatenation of images functions far more effectively. This can be simple repetition, or variations on a theme. It’s a sign of the inherent paranoid fear I have of my stuff being no good. As I’ve got older I’ve found I have less and less certainty to express; more ambiguity, more confusion. Perhaps a theme mitigates this a little.
— When drawing artworks for Radiohead, do you adjust your art style specific to their style of music? Or do you basically draw freely?
Well, the music plays a large part in how the pictures and ideas are dealt with. I listen to the music a great deal whilst working, and I guess that the sound affects what I do. It’s not a conscious decision, but something more vague, perhaps similar to the way the weather can affect our moods; sunny days make people smile, rain makes us a little mournful.
— When you collaborate on artworks with Thom Yorke, what are the divisions of labor? How do you balance each other out?
Our levels of cooperation differ from time to time and from project to project, but ultimately we both have a veto over what the other is doing. Most usually we both work on a piece until we’re both happy with it. Or not unhappy with it. We balance each other out, yes; that’s very well put! Perhaps we cancel each other out, in a good way.
— Your artworks contains figures of bears, as well as skulls. Are there any meanings to these symbolic figures within your artworks?
Yes. Everything means something; every image, the way each thing is done, from the technique and the medium to the concept and the execution. But it’s best to leave the interpretation to the viewer. It’s not my job to explain and elucidate it.
— You've self-expressed yourself through novels and short stories, using anagrams, symbols, word replacements, among others. What does "written words" mean to you? Is this side of you just as important as art?
Definitely. I veer from art to writing, but rarely do both during the same period.
— Banksy and yourself are part of the Lazinc Team. Albeit indirect, I sense that there is this strong cooperative atmosphere, and wanted to know if you could shed some insights.
One of my favourite things about the artists who exhibit at Mr Lazarides’ gallery is that no-one knows who anyone else is. We are all quite anonymous. We could all be at the same party and not know it.
— Any thoughts on the Tokyo Art/Creative scene? Do you sense any difference between, say, London vs. Tokyo's art scenes?
I’m afraid I don’t know anything much about the Tokyo art scene. I’ve only been to Tokyo once, and spent most of my time having a strange time, wandering around taking photographs of tall buildings, which eventually became the artwork for Amnesiac. Having said that, I don’t know anything about the London art scene either. I’m pretty ignorant about art.
— Any advice to the aspiring artists of the world, and in particular, to the young artists of Japan?
Keep your eyes open and keep drawing.
— Last, but not least, please provide a statement to your Japanese fans.
I hope to return to Tokyo, to exhibit, and to have another strange time. See you soon, I hope.
An Event to Commemorate the Launch of "Dead Children Playing: A Picture Book" By Stanley Donwood & Dr Tchock At the Horse Hospital, Colonnade, Bloomsbury, London 17th October 2007
With selected painting on the walls
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