Dale Grimshaw is a London based representational figurative artist, who produces melancholic social realist oil paintings on canvas. His eerie portraits seem to bear a rather scary second nature of his subjects; something they probably prefer to hide. After studying at Blackburn College of Art Dale got off to a flying start. A few large commissions, competitions and a short jaunt into the music industry later Dale rapidly became one of the leading up-and- coming artists in the London Urban Art scene. On October 6, 2011 Dale will open his third solo show ‘Semi-Detached’ at Signal Gallery sporting a domestic theme. We met Dale to find out more about the artist behind the dark work.
How did you start your career?
I guess my first commercial venture rolled into production when I was very young, whilst still at school –drawing quick portraits of Adam Ant for girls in my class. Adam Ant bought some of my work from the Arcana show in 2010, so it completed the circle! I did creative stuff at home but I also painted punk record covers on the backs of leather jackets as a teenager. Looking back, all that fashion imagery seemed really tribal. Most kids would prefer to have a designer label or a logo by some god-awful, unethical company on their clothes these days.
On a more serious note, I sold my first canvases whilst at University in London.
What were your first projects/ideas?
I’ve always been interested in painting, mainly figurative art. We had a cheap copy of of John Constables ‘The Cornfield’ on our living room wall while I was growing up. I was fascinated by the narrative of the painting, along with the painterly-ness of it. Whilst living at an assessment center as a teenager I was encouraged to work big on the walls, I wish I had kept that up.
After that, I was influenced by the art on punk covers. One of my first serious themes was at Blackburn College of Art – I based all my work on my hatred of the meat industry and how we treat animals in The West. There were some woodcut prints, but mainly some big brash paintings of carcasses layered over collaged ten pound notes – it was all very over the top and obvious…somebody should have stopped me! Looking back though it was a damn sight more gutsy than what a lot of the other students were doing.
How did those ideas develop into what you do now?
In some of those early paintings there was a lot of painterly movement, lots of splashes, collage and texture too – this is in a similar vein, stylistically, to what I do now. They call it urban art now I guess.
My work just got more figurative after the early college days and that’s where it has stayed really. My work is at it’s best when it’s got a liveliness to it –I could never be just a straight-forward traditional figurative/portrait painter. I always have the urge to mix things up – if you give me an orchestra I’ll want to put them through wah wah peddles or add some punk musicians to the mix and vice versa.
People constantly compare me to predictable names in the urban art field but I did pretty much all the obvious stuff you could do with paint and figurative art over 15 years ago. It fucks me off.
Your paintings give the portrayed person something eerie and abstract. Do you see people and life different than others?
Our eyes are of the same biological make up, but we all see the world and it’s inhabitants differently. Our eyes can only focus on select areas of detail at one time and the rest of our vision is out of focus. This is something that fascinates me. There’s so much more to people than their exterior fleshy shell. I try and capture a little more that just the obvious stuff like lips, noses etc.
I call it figurative abstraction. Some people talk of auras, I describe it as electricity or energy. This is what I try to capture and get down on canvas. My paintings are more like grainy film stills.
I’ve always had quite morbid thoughts about things from an early age, besides I’m not sure I could capture humor in the work, even if I wanted to.
What drives you to create?
Occasional washes of deep personal self–loathing and feelings of underachievement drive me on. I use that as a little springboard and it works fine for me.
I see my paintings as children, I’m very proud of them and want them to be honest, passionate and live a long healthy life after I’m dead. Some may die young, others may end up on crack in a children’s home. Ultimately, I hope some will have longevity and will be marveled at in a quiet, sensitively lit, archival environment for centuries to come.
I love paint, everything about it. I’m not the kind of creative creature that could find one definite style and then churn it out, regardless of how many of them I’ve sold. I have so many exciting ideas for paintings to come, not only in terms of the content matter, but pushing the technical boundaries of painting too.
I like it when the DVD gets stuck and everything is blurred and is pixilated on the screen…
What are your aspirations?
In an age where being a painter is still seen as being on a par with having an acute disability, along with it being fashionable to produce ‘cold, conceptual bullshit’ -as someone once called it- I aspire to make gutsy paintings that reach out and grab people by the heart. Paintings that have a physiological narrative and say something not only about the way we look physically, but illustrate how we are spiritually, where we are going as a race of people. Producing emotionally, raw imagery is what inspires me at the moment.
If you could pick anything, what would be your dream project?
I really like the idea of being part of a big grand, high profile, traveling group exhibition of all the mighty figurative painters. On a more commercial note I would like to produce a really powerful painting to be used on a successful book or CD by one of my favorite authors or musicians. I like the idea of that crossover.
The inevitable question: What or who influenced your work as it is now?
Lots of people and things – Lucian Freud, Constable, Francis Bacon, Hockney’s photo montages, Jenny Saville, Rembrandt, Peter Howson, Jamie Reid, Gee Vaucher, Adam Ant, the Sex Pistols, Gerhard Richter, crappy ‘how to paint’ books from Accrington (my very ‘small’ home town) library, some American pastel artist that lent me a jumper whilst I was on a state funded poor kids holiday, Ken Currie, and John Virtue, to name a few.
Any upcoming or cool artists we need to check out?
I’m really feeling Joram Roukes work along with other people like street artist Ludo. Also John Clark, a painter from Cambridge, who is doing some interesting figurative work. Other names that spring to mind are Jonathan Darby and Bael.
How do you see your life without the ability to create?
My initial thoughts are that I’d kill myself and do a big dramatic dying swan type thing. I told my partner to push me off a cliff if I lost my sight. But then that’s just silly, I know. Life would certainly be less exciting for me, but us human beings are very adaptable creatures and I’d probably find something else to fill my days. I’m loved, I eat well and have a nice home – I could be happy with that.
The best and the worst day in your life: What happened or what would be?
My worst day would be being arrested for a murder I didn’t commit. I would be stripped and beaten in the cells, dragged through the courts, the press would vilify me, portray me as a true modern day monster. My family and friends would reject me. I’d probably go insane, lonely and ill in my small isolation cell. I’d die choking on my own vomit, twisting in agony on the floor in my own feces. Maybe I should of studied acting?
My best day would be spent in my studio painting a masterpiece that will be appreciated for hundreds of years.
What are you working on now?
I’m just putting the finishing touches to my exciting new work for my next solo show ‘Semi Detached’ at Signal Gallery in October. The piece I was working on today was something I started at a paint jam in Spitalfields Market at the weekend. It’s based on the rioting and looting that happened across the UK a while back. It’s quite a departure from most of the work I’ve recently completed, yet it still fits in with the domestic theme of my show. Along with painting, I work on large woodcut designs that I print from, when time permits. The prints get up on the streets around London and Europe. Some have even made it to Sao Paolo.
I’m also working on some sketches for a big commercial commission. I thought I was too busy to do it but they mentioned the mega bucks involved and I spontaneously became available!
What tradition do you see yourself in?
I see myself in a long tradition of crafts people and mark makers.
Famous last words?
There are things that you know, there are things that you don’t know, but there are things that you don’t know that you don’t know…
Dale Grimashaw’s solo show ‘Semi-Detached’ will be shown at Signal Gallery, 32 Paul Street, London. Private Viewing on October 6th. The exhibition will run until beginning of November.
