do you think he built the glass case on his own? I am missing something in this intellectual logic.
true, and then I started having some inklings of it. Well, now I know. BvH Did you always draw? Were you always an artist?
BvH LetÕs talk about your grids, which have a very structural qualityÉ BC Once you are faced with an architectural structure, or seemingly infinite grid or matrix, it can be quite an overwhelming and frightening Blade RunnerÐish experience; a grid is almost like trying to think of the infinite. But then you introduce into it a Ôquiet little whistle of a lineÕ, which renders the grid benign and almost decorative. The grid then becomes the structure or the armature upon which the whistle plays itself out. ItÕs playing the one against the other. IÕve always been interested in things that explore that conflict or collision.
BC I put it down to my Dad. He was a coalminer, and then worked in a mill. He used to make wedding cakes for family and friends. He had been a cook at some point, in the army, I think, and he used to decorate the wedding cakes with little curlicues and baroque baubles and silver balls. I used to watch him make these wedding cakes. From an early moment on I desired to make things. ThatÕs a very early memory, it went on through my toddlership. I have sketchbooks from when I was 14. By the time I started the second one, it was all collage. BvH In your recent work there is more drawing, less collage É why?
BvH A kind of optimistic tension? BC It can carry the whole range of emotions that we as human beings can experience. BvH When you look at the work in this exhibition, from the beginning to now, what transformations are there? It strikes me as very coherent É BC It is a lifetime of looking. You can see it in most artists, the seed of it. When I look back on those older works, I just feel grateful that I did not abandon the search, didnÕt get crushed by the lack of understanding, by the lack of interest. BvH In your collages you use torn-up drawings Ð why do you tear up work? BC I enjoyed making the drawings, but didnÕt necessarily always think they meant very much. I often saw something in them that was good, a line suggesting the underside of an arm, or a hand. I took to tearing those moments out of drawings, on the basis that lines taken from existing drawings had a less self-conscious feel to them. Throughout the 90s, I tore up most drawings, apart from those in my sketch books, which I tend not to alter. IÕve got a drawer full of very nice bits. ThatÕs creative tearing up, not editing down of. It wasnÕt destructive.
BC ItÕs really simple. ItÕs what happens sometimes, you just find yourself. The journey to finding yourself can be really interesting, but when you actually feel that you understand who you are, then an urgency enters into the equation. You have to make work, because youÕre breathing cleanly again. You have to do the work to get to where you want to go. It wonÕt just happen by being in a straw hat in a lovely orchard in Provence. You have to think about it all the time. IÕm talking about me. I canÕt afford to be distracted. IÕm now very jealous of my time. BvH Tell me about the black works on paper, the most recent ones? BC I could never find the right pencils or pens that could carry a line on black paper, but finally I did. They are Caran dÕAche crayons, and metallic ink pens, or old-fashioned nib pens. The black paper is sugar paper, and the white paper is Velin Arches. The first time I came across it, John Piper gave me some, a whole pile of it. BvH What do you like about it? BC It looks handmade. ItÕs expensive. In those days, I used to draw on both sides. BvH Tell me about your use of templates?
BvH Is the line of the actual tear on the outside also important? BC Very much so. There are various ways to tear different kinds of paper. IÕve become quite adept at tearing the shape I want. I am right-handed, so if you tear the paper forward, with your left hand, it will take off the surface of the paper underneath as well. So, itÕll leave a different edge than if you tear it towards you. If you do the latter, you get a much cleaner edge. You learn these techniques. I like doing that. BvH The inclusions you put on the paperÕs surface are not random? BC No. I have always liked the torn edge, and I like the contrast between an irregular organic shape juxtaposed with a very formal grid or cross. It has always fascinated me, that marriage of opposites. I donÕt know what IÕm doing when IÕm doing them; IÕve never done any ice-skating, but it must be like that. You are all over the place, and fall on your arse, but when you get going, you just go with the flow, you do a little twirly bit, and then you get lost in it. Through the loss of your reason and logic an instinct takes over that is actually much more reliable. When I was younger, I guessed this might be
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BC We had a large peg board wall at Oldham School of Arts and Crafts, when I was about 12 or 13, upon which we used to hang tools. Silhouettes were painted underneath them to make it easier to spot where to replace the tools and to identify which were missing. The line drawn around a template shape has a unique quality. It lacks individual character or the personality of the drawer, however, when the even template line is interrupted, paused or let free to roam or shoot away from the template, the contrast is unique. It is the contrast of conflicting line ÒtypesÓ that is so mysterious and produces challenging and unexpected results. BvH Do you ever see lines in your head? BC Yes, I draw all the time. Actually, ALL the time. To the point of it being a distraction. I draw people when IÕm looking at them. I look at them so carefully and analytically that it appears rude. I often get carried away with my imaginary drawing to the point that I loose concentration on the conversation at hand. ItÕs not intentional, itÕs just about prioritizing. I prefer to draw than to talk. Lines are more rewarding than chatter.
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