Stuart Semple is known for his wry social commentary through his colour injected works. In April 2010, he opened his new show, The Happy House, at Morton Metropolis in London.
Contemporary image-making is rife with critical debate. It always has been, in fact, that鈥檚 part of its definition, but combine that with an overarching analysis of popular culture, and the consequences of the recent recession, and this result is a new compelling sense of urgency. Following in the footsteps of Andy Warhol, Barbara Kruger and Jeff Koons, Stuart Semple (b. 1980) turns popular culture on its head by critiquing it through its own vernacular, and so themes of disillusionment serve to deconstruct the very world in which we live, producing a series of metanarratives that attempt to redefine our comfort zone. Semple is a pro; he joins aesthetic discourse with the acidic residue of consumerism, which is not only thought provoking, but also serves as an acute reminder to the current state of play.
Semple鈥檚 latest offering, The Happy House, inspired from Siouxsie & The Banshees鈥 song of the same name (1981) will open at one of London鈥檚 newest galleries, Morton Metropolis, this April. In his first UK solo exhibition in three years, Semple returns to the city where he first became recognised for his politically charged witticisms, presenting his most personal collection to date. The Happy House offers a glimpse into the artist鈥檚 past and a much-longed return to his natural colour-fuelled style. Semple鈥檚 latest series also signals a new era, as he reveals provocatively illustrated works in which his wry social and political observations are entwined on each canvas.
In the aftermath of tumultuous recession and with the general elections looming in Britain, Semple commands the undivided attention of his audience, removing the veil of conformity from the eyes of an idle and meek society. Semple forces viewers to question the extent to which contemporary culture can impact upon everyday lives. In Comfortably Numb there鈥檚 a sense of sadness, as we say RIP to Borders, Cool Britannia, and even the mixed tape, but there鈥檚 more to it than that. Ultimately, it鈥檚 a re-evaluation of our value systems and disengaging appropriated meaning. Semple subverts these systems through a distinct juxtaposition of colour, image and text.
Semple is making images with a purpose; undercutting current trends to engage with the wider social context. Lifting the lid on the state of Britain today, Semple pushes the manipulation of image-making to the extreme; revealing the empowering effect of pictorial demonstrations in an active stand against the 鈥渕iddle of the road鈥 attitude prevalent in today鈥檚 society and perpetuated through modern media. With programmes like X-Factor propagating the McDonaldisation of popular culture, it鈥檚 no surprise that Semple is angry about the complacency erupting in every cul-de-sac in Britain. His work shouts loudly and fluently in the language of a young media-soaked generation, depicting a world that is absorbing and exciting, yet precariously underpinned by the concave cycle of daily tabloids, Hollywood films, Facebook, and a little bird called Twitter. From the macro to the micro, the cultures of consumerism operate on many levels; they are almost omnipotent.
For Semple, it is crucial that his work speaks to audiences on an emotional level, inspiring a response that transcends the limits of the work itself and encourages a critical re-evaluation of daily life. In The Happy House the homogenisation of culture is the backdrop for the exhibition. At once, we must question the artifice of the image, and how it intervenes with globalisation and interrogates the associated power structures. Semple does not create work to be consumed along with popular culture but reverses and redefines the power of these memes to reveal a narrative of deeper human interaction.
At Morton Metropolis, Semple鈥檚 compilation of 10 – 12 large-scale paintings will flow like tracks on the bygone mixed-tape. Alive with intense imagery and a direct humour they make no attempt to obscure meaning.
Your work has been received with great acclaim over the past five years with Fake Plastic Love (2007) and Everlasting Nothing Less (2009) gaining widespread attention, can you tell me how it all began?
I suppose the attention started at the Fake Plastic Love show, which was pretty frightening, putting on a show of that scale would be hard not to notice. I still can鈥檛 get my head around the fact that 10,000 people came. But it really started in 2000. I started making a lot of work and I wanted to get it out there, so I put it anywhere that would take it 鈥 bookshops and caf茅s. Most of the time nobody bought one. While I was at university (in the Yorkshire Sculpture Park) I got really ill and nearly died 鈥 after that the work just kept coming. I started selling these works on eBay, remember in 2000 it was the bare bones of the web; we were still paying by the minute for dial up. But every night I sold three and people would tune in at the same time every night, and before I knew it there was a fledgling online community. I made and sold about 3000 pieces during that time, mostly they sold for 拢20 – 拢30, so I wasn鈥檛 rolling round like an art-star, but the landlord was off my back.
Much of your work is an analysis of popular culture, yet you critique it through its own language, can you tell me more about this decision?
When I think about pop-culture, I think primarily about images, moving images and static images. That鈥檚 the language I鈥檓 fluent in, and while English is a language for me, I think pop is another one; it might even be my first. So it鈥檚 natural to use that for me. The beauty is that it鈥檚 a shared language so it鈥檚 quite efficient at relaying a concept, more so I think than more abstract ways of saying something. The point is that most of that pop-culture world, and the images that surface from it do a really good job of pretending that they reference reality. The fact is that they are manufactured, normally with a goal focused purely on consumption, either of the image itself, a product or lifestyle choice. We start to become what we see, and we assume this environment. We camouflage ourselves to fit in. It鈥檚 self-fulfilling. The point is that I鈥檓 trying to make a definite contribution to image-making, but I鈥檓 also trying to be truthful and critical.
What are your main concerns about today鈥檚 society and how does your work define and explore these anxieties?
My main fear at the moment is one of alienation and a type of ghettoisation, one in which there鈥檚 a sort of bland, homogenised, middle-class with super safe aspirations. This is what we鈥檙e told we should be, this is what鈥檚 perpetuated. Where the fringes are reduced, where we鈥檒l all be okay as long as we adopt a certain ideology. Fundamentally it doesn鈥檛 work like that, we still have a huge amount of poverty in this country, we still have a working class, we are part of a bright and varied community but a lot of it doesn鈥檛 conform to the ideal, so it鈥檚 hidden. I like the idea of a glossy West End gallery exhibiting an image of Poundland, and I can show something where people wouldn鈥檛 normally expect it. I鈥檓 so lucky with the gallery actually; they are probably the first I鈥檝e found that really understands what needs to happen. They are brave; they are as much for the artist and the culture as they are for the collector. You don鈥檛 normally see that. The art world couldn鈥檛 be further away from what I鈥檓 talking about. The works are about the majority of our population, so it鈥檚 like the camera angle changes and I hope you see how limited that frame has been for so long. So in the show you see suburbia, where I was bought up, and you see me getting beaten up outside Poundland.
Your work transcends art, as you move between divides in contemporary visual culture, most notably fashion and art, can you tell me more about the fusion of these two worlds?
I can鈥檛 see a difference anymore. For me, it鈥檚 about finding a route to voice something, it鈥檚 still art for me if it鈥檚 critical. There鈥檚 no grand plan, so if I need to learn a new skill or jump over a barrier into a neighbouring discipline in order to carry on that鈥檚 what I do, and I find myself almost organically stepping back. I decided a long time ago that I would do whatever the work needed from me. One day I鈥檒l be on my hands and knees with a tiny paint brush for 16 hours and the next I鈥檒l be photographing a rock star or going on a mission to a paint lab to get a formula to do what the work requires. I could even have to learn new software or painting techniques. I鈥檓 not running the thing; it鈥檚 totally running me.
I am very interested in finding out more about who your influences are and where your draw your inspiration from?
There are so many and I surround myself with them, in books and music and film. In the past great painters like Van Gogh or Caravaggio, the Pop Art guys: Rauschenberg is a big one, Warhol of course and the Polke. Equally people like Lawrence Weiner or Jenny Holzer for what they do with language. With regards to contemporaries, I get as much inspiration from artists that I don鈥檛 want to be like, as I do with those I do. I don鈥檛 like art that鈥檚 driven by money, I don鈥檛 like art that鈥檚 not critical so perhaps in that way my biggest inspirations are Hirst or Murakami, in as much as I think they could say more. But the big one is always the music because music can change the way I feel, it鈥檚 like a tap into my emotions. Right now I鈥檓 listening to a lot of Blur again and the new Eminem album. Actually I think Eminem is really important. I think he might be the greatest, most critical pop artist we鈥檝e had yet. Dylan, Conor Oberst. Van Gogh has influenced my painting more than anyone else, but I don鈥檛 think you can see that in my pictures.
The Happy House has been described as your most personal collection to date, how does it differ from earlier shows, say Fake Plastic Love?
Well the other shows look at culture, they are sociological and reference art. This one dives into very personal experiences I鈥檝e had, the other stuff becomes the context. There鈥檚 a painting that鈥檚 a bit like a love song to an ex-girlfriend, there鈥檚 a time when I got beaten really badly outside Poundland and there鈥檚 another one called Would the Real Stuart Semple Please Stand Up where there are 10 of me in my granddad鈥檚 front garden with different phrases on my t-shirts each showing a different aspect of how popular culture has made me what I am. I am a product of popular culture. I鈥檓 here because it made me this way. At its grittiest you see me after my allergic reaction, I use the real ECG printout of my flatline, it provides the context for the portrait, it鈥檚 one of the most shocking and painful things I鈥檝e ever had to make. This picture is the bit where Frankenstein turns against its creator or the robot with artificial intelligence tries to take over the world.
We鈥檙e definitely 鈥渞ecessioned out鈥, it has pretty much consumed our daily lives for nearly two years, so how do you feel this event has impacted on your artistic practice?
The art market has undeniably gone through one of its darkest moments, and things have been corrected I think. My practice has changed but not because of the economy, I鈥檓 still here doing my thing, plodding on. Perhaps a bit, I鈥檓 more aware of economic systems that I was before; I think I took that for granted. The work has interacted with some of those ideas, like the HappyCloud performance from Tate Modern, which was directly about recession. I think artists who had a really big elaborate production line work going on will have been changed more. It was a tough time for everyone; it was like the whole thing was put on pause for a while and nobody, not even the biggest artists and galleries, knew if they鈥檇 ever sell work for the prices they did before. I just decided to get my teeth into these pictures and keep going the best I could.
For newcomers to your work, what would you want them to experience; essentially what would you like them to take away?
I don鈥檛 know, in a perfect world, where I鈥檇 really pulled it off. I鈥檇 like them to remember the images, I think at least one or two. For me, the sign of a good picture is one I can remember. I can remember seeing a Van Gogh 21 years ago, vividly. There you go, that鈥檚 a thing to aim for isn鈥檛 it? A picture someone might remember 20 years later.
Finally, what鈥檚 next for Stuart Semple?
For once I don鈥檛 know. There鈥檚 some work for the Hong Kong Art Fair and I鈥檓 collaborating with China鈥檚 biggest fashion/lifestyle magazine on a project. After that, I鈥檓 praying it鈥檚 going to be a holiday. I never know though from one week to the next, I鈥檒l go wherever it takes me.
The Happy House ran between 26 April – 29 May 2010. .
Cherie Federico
