One learns by instinct to trust in your own judgment to the point that the art itself dictates. Often your hand is controlled by an outside force.
Political, satirical, and provocative in his art, Andrew Gilbert draws inspiration from the Western historical narrative to absurd ideas. He talks about his views on curation and the influence of ethnography in the fictional world he often recreates in his work, in an interview with Sonalee Tomar.
British Infantry Advance on Jerusalem, 4th of July. Installation view, Tate Britain, 2015. Photo courtesy Tate Britain
Take us to the beginning of your story. How did your tryst with art begin?
I began to draw constantly as a child, kneeling on the floor. My Grandfather, from Glasgow, Scotland, would visit Edinburgh and bring me paper to draw on. I drew battles from the war films that were always on British television and I began to communicate with vegetables and fruits. So I would draw scenes from the Zulu War (1879) or the Jacobite Rebellion (1745) with fruit people after seeing the film Zulu, 1964, starring Michael Caine. As a child, I began to research the invasion of Zululand by the British Army and wondered why a film about soldiers killing people defending their land against a foreign invasion was so popular. Then at the age of 17, in 1997, I began to study Art at Edinburgh College of Art and Art History at the University of Edinburgh.
SHAKA ZULU – The Musical, 2016. Courtesy SPERLING, Munich
Tell us about the evolution of your practice over the years. What were your biggest learnings and hiccups along the way? Which is the most memorable moment?
At art college, you are encouraged to stand when drawing. As soon as I graduated in 2002, and moved to Berlin, I began to work again as I did in childhood, kneeling on the floor, as if in prayer or meditation, with absolute concentration. One learns by instinct to trust in your own judgment to the point that the art itself dictates. Often your hand is controlled by an outside force. As a student in 1999, I created my own fictional pineapple juice company. So I made work which was a mixture of tribal totems, war memorials/military propaganda and commercial advertising. I work with these themes even today.
The most memorable moment would be meeting The Holy Brocoli, in Prague in 2009, when I imagined I was in India in 1857 during the uprising against British Colonial rule. Breathing the air of South Africa on arriving for the installation of my first exhibition there, at Blank Projects in Cape Town, 2014, was also a very important moment.
Holy Brocoli Kills the Imperial Serpent, 2013. Courtesy SPERLING, Munich
Tell us about your fascination with historical contexts and commitment to ethnography via art as a medium.
As previously stated, my interest in and questioning of Western historical narrative began in childhood. Contemporary events such as the Invasion and Occupation of Iraq and Afghanistan or Brexit show a lack of learning from history. The colonial invasions, ethnic cleansing and genocides of the 19th Century are repeated today. And yet there remains a great nostalgia for this era, due to lack of education and propaganda, in the West today. The motive of material wealth and natural resources, as in the 19th century, for these war crimes, remains the same today. I discovered the so called “primitive” art as a student, at the age of 18, when we went to the African section of the National Museum of Scotland. For conservation reasons, the room was very dimly lit and therefore very atmospheric. I saw the students reflected in the glass and imagined them inside the Vitrines, preserved as primitive idols of savage Western culture. So I began to make my own “primitive” sculptures, out of vegetables and cardboard. The African section in the museum is now closed and replaced by a display of phones, this says a lot about our contemporary worship of objects and system of bizarre fetishes. That is why I recently created my company The Leek PhoneTM as a parody of Western tribalism and obsession with object worship.
The Beast Of Brexit, 2018. Courtesy SPERLING, Munich
What inspires you? Take us through your process and continuous frameworks of reference.
I am constantly inspired. Ideas are permanently arriving in the brain, triggered by events in the news, or adverts seen on posters in the streets, or absurd ideas fueled by too much coffee. A chance encounter with an interesting looking sweeping brush may be far more inspiring than any gallery visit . I strongly believe in celebrating the most absurd ideas and preserving them through drawing. One drawing always leads to the next automatically – every time you complete one idea, another six arise in the brain waiting to be done – it never ends. Through travel, for example, one learns more history and sees ever more the effect of this history on today. This of course also leads to more ideas.
What is the primary role of an artist? How do you describe yourself in the context of challenging people’s perspectives via your work and art?
To work everyday. To be a Prophet and to know nothing at the same time. To be an artist is an extreme luxury, to have a language to communicate with people and a reason for existing. However, the contemporary art world seems to be increasingly dull and isolationist; another power structure and investment for business people and ever less connected to humanity.
I work every day. Art is also an addiction and very destructive, yet it is also a medicine and the greatest freedom.
– Andrew on how to balance life and art
Andrew – Captain of the 1st XV. Cricket Team, 2018. Courtesy SPERLING, Munich
How do you deal with the conceptual difficulty and uncertainty of creating work?
If ever an idea or fresh inspiration is lacking, then the best medicine is simply to draw the first thing on your mind. No matter how absurd. From each drawing comes the next drawing. The work itself guides you and controls you.
How does your audience interact and react to the work you put out into the world?
That is hard to tell, as you are not always present during the exhibitions. But usually it’s been very positive across the globe. Talking at art institutes seems to be very refreshing for the students, as they are bored of conceptual art and over-professionalism. I enjoy giving lectures about my work. Students tend to make very good work before the art market system corrupts many. Children are also a very good judge of art.
Andrew on his Rickshaw in Durban, 2018. Courtesy SPERLING, Munich
What are you looking for when you look at other artists’ work? Which shows, performances and experiences have shaped your own creative process? Who are your maestros? Whose journey would you want to read about?
I am very influenced by the Romanesque Cathedral sculptures of the 11th Century in Europe, the Flemish Visionary painters of the 15th century, the German Expressionists such as Ernst Ludwig Kirchner and Emil Nolde of the early 20th century.
The most inspiring museum I have visited recently is the Phansi Museum in Durban, South Africa. The museum is dedicated to traditional art of Southern Africa – to keeping the spirit of this art alive and connected to the people. And to show its development through changing social situations and contact to foreign culture. There is a certain indescribable energy that comes from some art, that is what I am looking for. Sometimes it is so strong, I become sick and have to leave the museum. It is power and not intellectual decoration.
You have spent time amongst artists in flow, what have you observed?
I tend to work alone. But once I collaborated with the Berlin artist, Carola Ernst. Our minds and hands were totally in one spirit and we made a very beautiful wood cut collage poster for an exhibition in Prague called ´The Hair in the Cannibal Soup of Dr Emil Holub’, about contemporary European Primitivism, which I co-curated at the N.T.K Gallery in Prague (2010). This year I curated an exhibition with Umar Rashid (based in Los Angeles) and Mitrikova and Demjanovic (a young Slovakian artist duo). The exhibition was called ‘The Fate of Empires’ and it was about the inevitable decay and decline of empires today. This was at Studio d´Arte Raffaelli in Trento, Italia. After many years installing alone, it was a great experience to once again share and communicate with artists directly.
What is that one thing you wished people would ask you but never do?
To make a huge permanent installation in their home, and turn it into a private Military and Ethnographic museum, full of my sculptures and drawings.
What is one imperative piece of advice you would give to someone who is just starting out?
Draw every day. Don’t be professional. Don’t visit art fairs. Go to Ethnographic Museums and not to Contemporary Art Galleries. Don’t be afraid of ridiculous ideas.
My 126th Wife, 2018. Courtesy SPERLING, Munich
How does your interaction with a gallery evolve from the initial interface, to the working relationship? How do you feel about commissions?
I can’t stand commissions; they destroy the natural energy of art. I have never used the word client and am not sure what interface means, something from Business college I guess. Each curator and gallerist is different. When I prepare an exhibition, I usually make many drawings and go on a journey on my own in my mind. Then they come and we select and reduce the amount of drawings to exhibit. Other times I select all the works myself. Or sometimes they may choose which works fit their vision or theme – such as the exhibition ‘The Probable Truth’ curated this year by Asieh Salimian at Vista Gallery, Tehran, Iran. Often I build an installation directly in the gallery or museum. Therefore creating an atmosphere of a 19th century Military Museum or Ethnographic Museum. This was done at the gallery Sperling Munich in Germany last year and 2 years ago as well. Tate Britain in London were, for example, very specific about which works they required for ‘Artist and Empire’ 2015, as was the National Gallery of Singapore, 2016. The Berlin artist space/project room Forever And A Day Büro (closed 2006) or Autocenter Berlin (closed 2014) encouraged each artist to be as brave and free as possible.
Soon I am going to write a book. I have been planning this for many years, and now the time and energy seems right.
What are you working on now? What’s coming next season?
I have developed an obsession for parrots and Persian miniature paintings after I was given some earrings that reminded me of parrot wings. I am constantly drawn to the idea of an encounter, in the clearing of a jungle, with an idol. The idol is fresh with offerings, and has been waiting for me, perhaps for centuries. So I was repeatedly drawing an idol made of parrots.
I am currently preparing a solo exhibition at the Kunstverein Friedrichshafen, a museum in the South of Germany in February 2020. I have been making many drawings about my Imaginary Instant Coffee PlantationTM and the rebellion that takes place there against my cruel dictatorship. It might be a metaphor for Brexit and the system of occupation and manipulation of people’s minds through propaganda that demonizes and blames foreigners as we also see in the U.S.A today, as well as the contemporary system of slavery through consumerism. But the ideas are still not entirely focused on yet.
As told to Sonalee Tomar for The Indian Curator.
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