PRESS

  • TORSION & TENSION & MOVEMENT

    TORSION & TENSION & MOVEMENT

    George Wilkins' Parasocial: Exhibition Review by Nancy H-B
    A NOTE ON THE SHOW & AN INTRODUCTION

    INTRO: OPENING QUOTE

    Generally I’m looking at structures of desire, whether that be desire for an object, a feeling, a person, a fantasy or an idea. We are all driven by those things, all the time. With this show I’m looking at the objects of desire- glittering glamorous things- things behind glass walls, and yet they have a mesmeric attraction- we cannot look away from these things - even if we don’t like them or we think shouldn’t like them…they have a quality and a power that cannot but draw you in…

     

    QUOTE FROM G.W.

    What to see & what to show? The first work in Parasocial, curated by Danielle Mezh, Strap In is perhaps both the most elusive and the most overt. A large scale oil on linen, layering ochres and browns - the image is originally taken from a fetish photograph, showing an off centre shot of a latex piece. Recalling the photograph, Wilkin was struck at first by its beauty, but also by its ‘obvious purpose and function’, noting the irony that desire and sex is shown so conspicuously, when it is playing in the realm of taboo. 

     

    Taking inspiration from the former, Wilkin set about to fracture & reimagine the latter - splitting the subject away from the purely sexual, to something more composite . In Strap In, she blends gesture and disguise to offer fascination, combining contemporary product and classical medium - building out the picture of beauty, disguise, and revelation in one frame.

     

    Strap In is in fact, multiple paintings layered on top of each other - the final one being the image of the strap-on itself - though its shape remains indistinct, creating an experience that one has to ‘work hard’ to identify through the frenzy of shapes that surround it. This work is necessary, for as Wilkin notes, this is about ‘desire that is withheld’ played out behind and beneath layers, ‘...it doesn’t immediately pull people in, but over time, it reveals itself’. Far from the ease and openness of its source, Wilkin’s work demands the viewer engage for the satisfaction of identifying the image, and for the full acknowledgement of what it means to see it.

     

    As we speak through the work, Wilkin references the work of 17th Century Baroque painter Diego Velázquez, and at once the connection is clear. Much like how the Spanish master's most famous work Las Meninas portrays a painting within a painting - muddling the role of audience, artist, royalty and maid servant - Strap In’s layers challenge us with multiple frames of engagement. Refusal, obscurity, and our desire to decipher the image seems to underpin the intrigue of this work.

     

    In this way, each part of the audience's journey in front of Strap In becomes connected - The process of confusion and loss is critical to the epiphany moment, the deciphering of form central to the final conclusion of realising the subject. Realising the artwork and realising the act. 

     

    On the opposite wall sits Dusty Finish, a five part polyptych where Wilkin breaks from the densely layered singular frame to create a collection of tousling forms, clutching and tumbling across each canvas on the wall. Here, the restive potential of desire comes out strong, standing as an experiment in form, torsion, tension and movement. 

     

    Conceived as one work across five canvases, process mirrors presentation. Wilkin flips and cuts the same wrestling match into a collection of locked stills and over-turning figures, the forms combining both movement and static rhythm. Whilst only one fight is depicted, its motion and tension are stretched and expanded across each of the canvases and their angles - the tug & weave of desire as strong as ever as the forms become indistinct, wrapped deep in their arena of combat and performance.

     

    If Velázquez’s framing devices are echoed in Strap In, then it is the photographer Eadweard Muybridge, with his studies of continuous movement recreated through multiple stills, that comes out most boldly here. Each canvas in Dusty Finish takes a distinct perspective on the fight as it unfolds, with Wilkin’s broad overlay of brushstrokes creating a patina that speaks to the energy of the wrestlers, confusing the visual boundary of where form finishes and frame begins, and re-activating that desire to find, and to distinguish.

     

    After the musculature of restive bodies, a striking blue snapshot of a woman's eyes cuts through the gallery space on the left hand wall, her gaze part rebuke, part pose. Far from being hidden beneath layers, Blue Portrait is a painting which suggests itself -and it is here that the dynamic of desire shifts. Less concerned with what is hidden and withheld and more with a structure and satisfaction of easy and striking serendipity. 

     

    Markedly different in both its colour and scale, Blue Portrait was created earlier than its partner works. Wilkin explains making multiple images per day - this swift repeated creativity offering a sense of catharsis and relief through its freedom, lightness and looseness. Far from the labour and process of Dusty Finish and Strap In, this work was a ‘ release…a sort of flexing of the muscles’ - made through swiftness and spontaneity and coming to Wilkin with the dynamic tenacity held & expressed in the subject's challenging gaze.

     

    The final work of the show, Weorþung, rises to meet us face on. Finished in the ochre tones seen across much of the artist’s oeuvre, this work has the figurative spirit of Blue Portrait depicting three dancers' heads - their expressions caught between endeavor and serenity as they play out their part on their stage and the canvas.

     

    Inspired by the maverick dance collective (La) Horde, Wilkin took the initial inspiration for the work from an audience video that had been reposted online after the performance online. This kind of found and shared footage (and the artistic expression that it can inspire), is an approach that the French collective embraces. Far from keeping their performances only on stage, the repetition and resharing of dances on digital platforms is encouraged. Technology is seen as one and the same with reality: the placing of compositions in contemporary digital content becoming a necessary engagement with the culture around the group, and an extension of each performance itself.

     

    This entwined relationship between technology and reality fascinates Wilkin. For Weorþung, she watched & re-watched the movement footage to capture the expression and sequences she most desired to portray. This stop-start process of playback, coupled with the stacking formation of the figures and the beating of the drums that (La) Horde use to soundtrack their work, creates a dance in itself - offering artist, performer and audience a place in the routine of repetition and reinvention. 

     

    (La) Horde’s own inspiration points are pertinent: Influenced by pre-Christian dances, which are in turn reimagined through classical ballet and offset through electronic soundscapes & costume, each element of the dance becomes reliant on the other, their sources being expanded and celebrated once they are included within the same frame. 

     

    Wilkin continues ‘... I love the way they think…[they challenge] who gets to decide the politicisation of a certain physical movement - the meaning of any gesture can be recontextualised...’ and this process is apparent in the composition of the piece. Whilst Weorþung focuses on the dancers’ heads, the site of feet, arms and torso, the most physical motivators and markers of the dance itself, are all left off picture. As the dancers disrupt their gestures and the audiences disseminate their film, so the proximity of performance, experience, collective & singular comes to the fore.

     

    Throughout Parasocial, and indeed throughout the artist’s practice as a whole, reference is turned and expectation troubled. In this, the show offers us that gateway through the ‘glass’ that Wilkin first speaks of - changing our relationship with desire by troubling our comfort and our expectation, forging engagement and participation between viewer, subject and work in every detail and every frame.

  • Ofunne Azinge and her works at our gallery launch at Pi Artworks
    Ofunne Azinge and her works at our gallery launch at Pi Artworks

    PURPOSE AND COURAGE

    Ofunne Azinge interview with Subtitle Labs

    The first time I saw Ofunne Azinge’s work was at the Royal Academy Summer Exhibition 2021 (RA). In a room filled with hundreds of paintings Ofunne’s work stood out as if it was in a gallery of its own.

     

    Akin to many of the other RA visitors that summer I left with a sense of anticipation for her works, if this was only the start, then what next? I decided to message her, ambitiously, I thought that perhaps she could be a part of my first group show, which she gracefully agreed to do. What grew out of that message was a continuation of my admiration for her as an artist and most importantly as a person.

     

    In the time between my message and the show she took part in a BBC RA documentary, was selected by Yinka Shonibare as the Coordinator’s Choice for the RA Summer Show 2021 and won the The Arts Club Award, Royal Academy of Arts, 2021. Prior to the show we met at her studio in Manchester, where she is finalising her MA. We sat down to discuss her life and career, beginning with her childhood.

     

     

    How was your childhood?

     

    I was born in Nigeria, I am not sure exactly where, and moved to the UK when I was five. Prior to that I lived with my grandparents, my aunt and my dad. Then I moved to England where I was adopted by my aunt. I did all of my primary schooling in Southeast London, moved back to Nigeria for boarding school for a few years and moved back to London and lived with my previous neighbours for two to three years. Finally I lived with a pastor for two years before going to university.

     

    You moved often, was that difficult?

     

    Moving around has taught me how to adapt to different cultures and people, to make friends, to leave friends, it felt like I was isolated and raising myself in different households. Once I left university and became independent it gave me time to reflect on that process.

     

    You mention moving, leaving friends. A lot of your work is based on your friends. The pieces are in some way a snapshot of a friend at a moment of your friendship, which perhaps you could not hold onto when you were younger. Is there a symmetry there within your work?

     

    Definitely, painting allows me to separate myself from a relationship, analysing the aspects of a relationship that are important to me and how these people have influenced my life.

     

    Especially “Dis wan na clone” – it gave me a chance to think about the women in my life and how much they influenced me. How similar we are in terms of experiences as well. Those paintings really gave me a chance to look back at some of my childhood memories and focus on the positives. In that moment, whilst making the work, I suddenly realised a lot of my childhood memories were not as negative as I thought they were, they were actually really positive.

     

    You are also a photographer – you photograph people, including your friends before painting them, how does this work, how do you pick the people to capture and how does it evolve into what you create?

     

    There are some people that I even follow on Instagram that I ask to photograph. Sometimes I like how they look, their aura, capturing their personality or who they are. Alternatively I may have photographed them before and asked to photograph them again – now I want them to symbolise something else or channel something else.

    Most of the time I am really just interested in people, and interested in the layers that make them.

     

    Having moved around in all of these different cultures and different experiences it merged me into this very complex, isolated mind. Therefore I am interested in learning all of their layers too and all of the dynamics that have made them.

     

    There are many layers to the people you paint, including painting people who are close to you and not close to you. Once you draw the initial outline of the person you must get another perspective of your friendship with them, as you are spending a lot of time with that person without the person physically being there. I suppose you build layers of that person which perhaps you did not notice before, such as their facial expressions.

     

    Do you find that sometimes, over the course of the painting, it changes your relationship with a friend whilst painting them?

     

    Yes, which is why I am very particular about the people I paint. So far it has been people that I want in my life and that I will know afterwards. People that I have strong relationships with. In the past I have painted a partner. In the process of the painting you spend so much time looking at this person, and building all these layers, which on this occasion made me think maybe this ain’t it. 

     

    So now there are boundaries to my work in terms of the people I paint and the relationships I explore. It is a very emotional process as well so I have to be quite careful.

     

    Do you find yourself going back and forth to paintings, or do you have a series of works that you complete and then move on?

     

    Definitely back and forth, it is difficult staring at one thing all the time. I find that when you are bouncing off different things I am like oh this does not belong to you, it belongs to a different painting and I am like thank you for that information. At the end of it you realise all of the works are communicating together in unison.

     

    In terms of materials what do you use to paint and make works on?

     

    I do not have the patience to use oil, I use acrylic, typically on wood.

     

    There is a clear direction that your work is going in, do you think that in the years to come it will be less figuratively based and more landscape based or something like that?

     

    3-5 years ago if someone told me I would predominantly be a figurative painter I would have been like what are you talking about? But I would love for it to be people based, but I would also love to explore still life, but not exclusively.

     

    I am still a young artist and I am aware that my paintings are informed by my experiences. I am still experiencing life and as I grow, my work will grow as well. It will change, just hopefully not drastically.

     

    I did so much experimentation during university and for many years I completely left painting, then I realised there are certain types of art I cannot do, such as using clay, I am not really a messy worker. Now I know there are certain things that are important to my practice so even if my work was to change it will still change within a certain context, it is still going a certain way.

     

    We also mentioned before the interview the point of developing as a person. You changed your career in the last few years, you were initially doing art, then you went into law and back into art, finally you decided to do art full time and take the next step. Do you feel that was a very difficult decision to do, a courageous thing to do? How difficult was that decision to make at that time?

     

    The most common thing that most Nigerian parents say is do law for a degree, then art for a masters. As you can do whatever you want to do, as long as you have your degree. But I will say one thing – I often find artists saying that ‘I will just do art on the side’, but then you are not really putting in as much as you need to into your practice. It is easier said than done, but I would suggest putting as much as you can into your practice.

    It was a difficult decision at the time, mentally I wasn’t in a place to be prepared for university in general.

     

    My first art degree was more of a research-base course, a lot of it wasn’t based on the technical and I did not get to paint as much. I did not understand why I was not functioning well. It was more me hitting rock bottom, my family thought it was the right thing for me to do law, and it seemed the safest option at the time so I switched.

    Many people thought I found law hard, but I really enjoyed it, but I could not imagine spending all of my student finance on something I was not going to do for the rest of my life.  So I was like let’s end this here and do something I enjoy.

     

    What was your family’s reaction?

     

    At that moment I had hit rock bottom in my mental health. It was a do or die moment. They did not really have a say or an option. I am very strong headed. They couldn’t say anything as I was going to do it anyway.

     

    Do you have something in you that was constantly thinking about art all the time, the desire to make all the time?

     

    This is deep, but with my mental health, it got to a point where it was at its complete lowest, suicidal even. I was in hospital and the one thing that really clicked in my head was like dude, do you wanna die and you’re not even an artist yet? What the hell are you thinking, get up and go – do art now. So I feel like to me, art is really my purpose, completely, and what I am going to do for the rest of my life. Period.

     
     
     

    Your last year, especially from an outside perspective, has been quite wild. Being a part of the Royal Academy Summer Show 2021, your work has really been noticed. There is clearly something that you have in your art that is different and captures the audience.

     

    What has it been like for you, this big break as such, or your first break in what should be a very interesting career. What has it been like for you over the last year?

     

    I am very spiritual, I feel as though everything sort of aligned for me. Had I of graduated when I was supposed to graduate in 2018 I probably would not have made the work and I probably wouldn’t have ended up at the RA. Everything definitely aligned for me, so I feel like my purpose is set. It was also great as the works on display there were sort of my a-hah moment works. I finally got it – what I have been trying to do for the past five years, so the people in the RA got to see the best of me, it was at the right time.

     

    Once the works were on display did you think people would notice them? Or were you just happy to be there?

     

    I was really happy, I didn’t expect to be in a BBC documentary, I didn’t expect to win an award, I was just really happy to be in a show. My degree show was cancelled and I had these two massive works and I didn’t know where to start. At that point it just felt like you made work to put it on social media and then nothing happens thereafter.

     

    Having the works in the RA was amazing, especially the pieces being selected by Yinka Shonibare as the Coordinator’s Choice and the BBC documentary. The amazing thing was that everything was exclusive from each other, the Coordinator’s Choice, the BBC’s choice, the award – all of it was made independently.

     

    Describe the feeling as an artist, what is it like to be recognised in that way?

     

    I feel like amazing is too boring a word to describe it. But it’s fulfilling. All of your emotions go into these pieces, you sacrifice so much to be an artist and to finally be recognised and appreciated is what every artist wants.

     

    Did it give you the motivation to push on? I’ve been noticed now, I have to make the most of it?

     

    In my head I was so thankful that I’ve been recognised now. I’m still young as an artist, so now it’s time to build my career, I’ve got to keep going, I don’t want to lose focus and keep making the same things over and over again just because these one’s did well. I’m thinking long term, what is my focus as an artist and what am I trying to say? What do I want to be remembered for?

     

    Without choosing one thing – what are you trying to say, what do you want your focus to be? If there are a few things you’d like to be known for or shine a light on, to motivate someone in a different way, what would that be?

     

    I recognise myself as a Nigerian British artist. I feel like it is very political for me. For a long time growing up I was told ‘she’s not Nigerian enough, she’s not British enough, she’s not black enough, is she African?’ So to position myself in the diaspora and to say, I am a Nigerian British artist, I am both of them, not exclusive to one of them is important, especially as I have been the only black female artist in all of these universities for the past five years.

     

    Even here, there is not a single black person in this building, I have been on my own for a really long time. I was speaking to a curator and he said there was another black artist in a different university in Salford nearby, but he’s a black male artist. I’ve literally been on my own for a good couple of years. There are very few of us who have studied fine art, who are very dedicated to their practices in the way that I am. It is nice to be in a position to shine a light on it. It’s all about representation, and having a voice for your heritage, both sides of the coin.

     

    Your work does have a British and Nigerian perspective. If someone from Nigeria, or Africa, or someone from a minority views your work, is there a feeling that you want to evoke there?

     

    Actually – at the RA – I went with my aunt and she brought a friend with her. The way they interpreted the work was a bit of an emotional moment for me. They were looking at my work and they looked at it through the eyes of someone in their generation and they started to tell me about the Kellogg’s cereals, when it came to Nigeria etc, they loved it, but the way they saw it was very different to the way I viewed it.

     

    Sometimes it humbles you, as I paint from a privileged place in a sense. I was painting it from the perspective of the End SARS protest, when Nigerians were protesting (2020).

    I felt I was painting from a place of privilege, other Nigerian artists were painting in a far more brutal sense as they were actually in that position, whereas I was watching it from the comfort of my bed, that’s not something I can help.

     

    This perspective is shown in the way that I paint the work and responded to the situation, but that representation is also necessary as there are Nigerians in the diaspora who are affected by it too.

     

    At galleries, there has been a higher percentage of figurative works in recent years, even more recently there has been a bigger representation of black people within those paintings. Do you as an artist see that happening more, or do you think because there was nothing before, it feels like there is a lot, but in reality, it is still a small amount?

     

    Yes, it feels like there is a lot, but still a little amount. It feels as though when galleries are trying to show representation they take paintings with black bodies in them but they are not necessarily by black artists, it’s not to say that is a bad thing. At the RA show even as an example, a lot of the artists that were included in the show were white, but many of the paintings within the show were of black bodies. But there is also the idea of context, the context behind the figures as well, is that missing when a white painter is painting black figures, do they have the additional context to relay that? So are black artists really being represented? Or are we using black bodies in galleries to represent diversity?

     

    I feel like in some galleries, they don’t even believe in the artist or the work, they just put it in a gallery because it is part of the times. Can you tell when that’s happening?

     

    I feel like especially now as my work is gaining attention and you have all of these different conversations and you’re giving your work to people where you can tell they don’t actually care about the artist or the context behind the work. It is emotionally draining for the artist as we put a lot into the work and it takes a lot for the work to get to a complete state. So yes, it is very emotionally draining.

     

    I was watching The Price of Everything, the documentary about the art market. Showing the art market versus the artist in the studio – and it is two distinct things. We need to acknowledge that the way we are in the studio and the way that art is sold is draining, it’s very draining, it goes from being an emotional thing to being completely commercial.

     

    That is why I think there is such a vacuum for a gallery between the two that bridges the gap by creating a relationship between the artist and buyer. In my opinion work should be in a home, or somewhere where it can be seen, enjoyed and discussed. A lot of work being bought now is bought to be placed in a cupboard somewhere to grow in value. It must be difficult as an artist to know your work is being sold to someone who does not really care about the work at all. For instance a buyer who hasn’t been asking questions about the work. The artists need the money, so it is a difficult choice. It is difficult dilemma as an artist may only have one buyer. Is it obvious when that’s happening?

     

    Yes, it’s frustrating, but there’s nothing you can do, you need the money, it’s quite sad, especially as you know that people who would have an emotional connection to it cannot always afford to buy it.

     

    Final question, which we ask all artists at Subtitle. For other artists who have or have not been to art school. What is your advice to forge a career in art and putting yourself out there?

     

    Firstly, experiment as much as you can and as much as your environment allows you to. When I was not in art school I used everything I could find at home to make work. Secondly do not wait for people to find you or contact you, contact them. Try to find and go to as many private viewings as you can, and try and speak to people. I will say this, when you go to speak to people don’t use social media as your opening point of conversation. Some people came up to me in the RA and were like follow me on Instagram as the first thing they said to me. Don’t do that.

     

    Finally – sell yourself, believe in yourself and be confident. If people in the arts don’t reply the first time or respond, perhaps not on the same day, but email again, as they get a lot of the same applications. Try as much as you can to stand out and have a CV no matter how small.

     

     

    Ofunne is an artist that defines perseverance, finding positivity in the midst of hardship, and coming out the other side stronger than before. She is someone that will blaze a trail, for herself and others behind her, bringing joy, nostalgia and a vision of the future through her works.

     

    Most importantly as her platform grows I am confident she will take other emerging diaspora artists with her, creating conversations that need to be had. She should be celebrated as much as she should be admired, now and in the years to come.

     

     

  • SINK OR SWIM

    SINK OR SWIM

    Tyler Lurks interview with Subtitle Labs

    It was a warm winters’ day in Elephant and Castle. I am meeting with Tyler Lurks, a young and welcoming emerging painter who recently graduated from Central St Martins. We meet at his studio across from the derelict railway arches servicing cars, to take some photographs, discuss his works and look at his latest pieces.

     

    Tyler is a calming presence, much like his paintings. His words are thought out but not calculated, he has a genuine warmness and sensitivity when talking about his process and the meaning of his work. His studio is shared with another painter, both of them, alongside the other graduates in the building were selected after an arduous application process.

     

    The moment you walk into his studio the works stand out, although they are bold in colour the experience is gentle. Tyler’s main medium is painting, using oil paints exclusively, he retouches his work constantly. The process he undergoes to choose his subject matters are meticulous as he scours Ebay for vintage photographs, often from the Vietnam war (1955-1975). Thereafter he paints these photographs onto wood, often reclaimed from various sources, including reclaimed wood from an amish barn.

    He explains that during the painting process he manipulates the characters in the photographs, giving them a new lease of life, adding more expression to their faces and personality, as if you were there in the moment with them.

     

    After admiring his latest work and taking some photographs of Tyler inside and outside of the studio, we sat down to discuss his career thus far, experience of going to art schools and his advice for other students and emerging artists.

    he not knowing.

     

     

    You have just finished at Central St Martins (CSM) – when did you apply and why?

    I initially applied at the end of A-Levels at the last minute, I was going to do a social work degree, but then I applied for the foundation course – but then I did not get in – but then reapplied for the BA the year later and got in.

     

    What type of social work did you want to do? And how did you decide to apply elsewhere?

     

    Youth-work, social work stuff. However through the hand of fate I had an experience with social workers in the latter stages of school. I learn’t to see that it was far more bureaucratic that I thought and less people based.

     

    When I did not get into CSM I went to do a foundation at the Royal Drawing School. It kicked the doors off of my brain. What you get taught at school is wrong, they know nothing about art. In the way that they push you through this treadmill of how to get an A*, there is nothing creative about it, unless you get lucky and get a great teacher, it is all about the grades.

     

    What are the top three things you learnt in the foundation year?

     

    The scope of what art is, how it can be. Having this constrained idea that artists make paintings full stop. Then you see mad performance art. You unearth this whole layer of nuisance and subtlety. Coming from this very heavy handed world of GCSE art, it was mind blowing.

     

    Would you say it gave you a different idea of what art could be – opening up your mind to new ideas?

     

    Definitely, how I saw art completely changed. I could suddenly see the art in things that I could not see before. My idea of it changed.

     

    As your eye adapts, to complexity, certain elements, suddenly you understand more, you can see see works from a different perspective. It must be amazing to have that in your first year, enabling you to develop your craft. What changed the most in that year?

     

    They have this policy in the first year to break down your idea of drawing. They teach you the technical faculties of observation of drawing and painting, on a really fundamental level. Loads of life drawing, drawing from observation, landscape, it is very traditional. If you want to make different art they are also happy to engage with you in the conceptual. However they try to give you the skills of physical making first, including composition and drawing. What they are giving you is a more skilled based approach to then make conceptual work from.

     

    Would they advance your conceptual ideas during the course, or were they purely giving you the core initial skills which could then be advanced in a BA?

     

    You would gain the basic principles in painting and drawing, but at the same time they are nurturing this conceptual, analytical approach to art and art history. You went to galleries every Friday to see another show and they would make you draw a piece from the show. You would sit there for three hours drawing it. They taught you the idea of slow looking at pieces, rather than the scrolling you do on the internet. In doing so you would give the piece a piece of yourself.

     

    Did you meet other artists on the course/did you befriend them?

     

    Yes, with the foundation being five days a week and with lectures every evening, we spent an enormous amount of time together, there were only 35 people on the course. We were all in the same building five days a week, 9 to 5, you have to be in. It is the strictest foundation I have ever heard of. Therefore you naturally grow together and form a bond.

     

    It sounds like a very disciplining course, were they are gearing you up to be like you either want this or you don’t? Are you still in contact with your friends from there?

     

    Yeah, definitely, it was like – if you are up for it then come and do it, if you are serious about it then come and learn. It is a bonding experience, we spent so much time together, we had similar interests, developing your craft and learning together, it is a very bonding experience – so we are still in contact.

     

    You then get into CSM. What is it like/what are the courses like?

     

    Not an awful lot, it is very self directed – which is why I was grateful for the foundation. CSM is a very hands off teaching style. They basically give you a studio and you have access to the workshops. They almost say, you are 20 years old at this point, you have got this far to get into CSM, so make some work and we will give feedback to you every two to three weeks.

     

    Can you make whatever you want to make – do they give you all the tools for it?

     

    Yes – but you pay for the materials. But you can go into the wood workshops for free and tell the technicians what you want to make. You find and pay for the wood, unless it is scraps, but they cut it for you and make it for you for free. They have three sculpting workshops, wood workshops, screen printing workshops, different types of printing, digital etc. They do not teach in an organised way, you have to seek it out. It is like “we are CSM, chase us, make the most out of it”.

     

    That must be hard at 20 years old? You must be able to get completely lost there?

     

    Yes some are desperate for structure, looking for someone to tell them what to do. Some get really lost and realise it may not be for them.

     

    Do they teach you there?

     

    There are tutors, who organise critique sessions and a series of lectures you can go to which are optional.

     

    Is it not like the foundation where you go to galleries etc? Were there exams?

     

    There were a few gallery days like that in the first year, a few big projects, for the most part however it was self led. Not a lot of art history either, maybe a critical studies lecture. They did have a guest artist come to CSM every Monday to give a lecture. Really good artists, sometimes big artists. For the exams you would make a portfolio every year at the end of the course and they would grade your portfolio for that year.

     

    Did you do summer shows/open studios?

     

    We had COVID in second year so we did not. We did have CSM open studios on the other years, they open up the whole university, in the summer and you can put your best work up in the studios to get exposure. It is rammed. Thousands of people go through the university. These range from families, tourists, collectors, whoever, a lot of people come it is open to the public. There is no selection process for the summer show, everyone just puts their art up in the studios. It is quite an event in itself.

     

    Did you meet other great artists there?

     

    Yes definitely. I would go and listen to other peoples critiques when I was not scheduled to be in. It was the most frustrating thing when other people did not come to the critiques.What are you here for if you are not going to discuss it with your peers?

     

    How does a critique work?

     

    It is a group of students and a tutor. Each student presents their work and the tutor would field the discussion and the other artists would hopefully engage in a discussion. The more you give the more you get. It is a reciprocal thing. If you turn up, give your time and energy and try to really understand their work and give them helpful feedback and promote an interesting conversation then you find that people do the same for you.

     

    You must make friends on the course, on the last year you must discuss what the next steps are in all of your careers. Does CSM to give you any advice on the next stage of your career, introducing you to galleries or are you just left to do what you want?

    No there was no real career advice.

     

    You have had some success so far, being in the studio here and getting into other shows. What advice would you give others to get themselves into a position to be involved in shows, if they were in year two, how do they get into a position to get involved in shows?

     

    Be in the studio, make as much as you can, speak to as many people as you can. It is a daunting institution that comes with a lot of hang ups. However by spending more time at the university people begin to recognise you, your face and then they speak to you and you will make connections. I got into a show in Shoreditch as I spent most days at CSM when I was not working, from morning till closing, then someone who was a tutor at CSM happened to be there, saw all my work out in the studio, wanted to work with me and offered me to be a part of the show further down the line.

     

    For aspiring artists reading this – what is the best way for them to spend their time when joining an art school?

     

    Spend time in the school even when you are not making works, talk with people, just to have conversations, turn up to the critiques, go to other peoples critiques, go to as many shows as possible. This is all pretty cliche but these are things that other people do not necessarily tell you when you join, which you wish you would have known at the start.

     

    Your work has progressed a lot throughout the years there are a lot of social elements to your work, juvenile expressions in a way, youths are often grouped together in your imagery. Has your interest in social work and art merged in a way?

     

    Not specifically however there is this idea of the humane, empathy and compassion that run through my work. There is a slippage. The slippage is through some of the precepts of what you may think of when you think of social work and then through what runs into my own practice and own motivations of making art.

     

    Do you have empathy for the people you paint?

     

    Not in a direct way, but the way I handle the subject matter is with empathy and that is what I am trying to imbue within the work.

     

    If someone does not know you and saw your works, of course everyone has their own perception, however what message would you like to send across?

     

    I am very wary of making people trying to feel certain things. I am against that. If anything I am trying to encourage people to take their time to consider things. In that way there is not necessarily a considered message, I am not trying to make people feel one emotion or another. What I am, if I am honest with myself, is trying to make people feel something, to take that bit of time and try to engage with something on a deeper level.

     

    In my opinion the work is a capsule of time, taking the pictures, and archiving, would you look at pictures that are modern pictures too?

     

    The original source material is all from a certain time, I try and retract certain elements to try and make them less time specific. I try and make them less immediately readable, I remove detail – I could say I demilitarise the images. I am shifting the focus, removing certain things so that other things comes to the fore.

     

    Where is your work taking you and do you think it is heading in a certain direction?

     

    I have no idea and I would like to keep it that way. I do not want to know what I am going to do, I enjoy the not knowing.

     

     

    As we finalised the interview, we shook hands and made a joke. I left the room thinking that it was the unknowing which makes Tyler a unique artist. When he paints, he does not know where it will take him. His collected vintage photographs become his paintings, serving to coalesce the past and the unknowing future as he adds elements of soul and personality to individuals.

     

    Tyler’s intrigue and respect for his craft separate him from the commercial artists of the 21st century and I am excited to see how he continues to develop.