GALLERI NICOLAI WALLNER

 

 

 

 

njalsgade 21 • building 15 • 2300 copenhagen s • denmark • phone:
+4532570970 • fax: +4532570971 • contact: nw@nicolaiwallner.com

 

 

 

don't get shirty (with me)

Jonathan Monk in conversation with Douglas Gordon, September 1994.

J. What do you know about my work?

D. It's strange because I don't really know so much about your work . I suppose this is the nature of the way things are in Glasgow right now. Everyone knows who is busy, but those people are busy doing things in other places, so it's difficult to get a handle on what people are up to exactly. So, at the moment you are heading for Copenhagen, and this is your first one-person show?

J. Yes.

D. And its in a private gallery, which is still quite an unusual thing for people like us, in Glasgow, to get used to because it's not part of our culture.

J. But it feels good. Initially I was asked to curate a group show but the timing wasn't right, so I suggested I do a solo show. It's no problem. And working with a young gallery like Nicolai is good. There isn't so much pressure for huge sales, although that would be nice.

D. What's the most expensive piece of work you've sold?

J. Probably one of the holiday paintings. From an exhibition at the CCA in Glasgow a few years ago. I started this series of paintings in 1992. Initially I was asked to make some paintings for a club, a night-club in the city quite near to the gallery. So, I made some paintings of advertisements for holidays; the type of places where people might go to for a rave or whatever. Places like Ibiza, or the south of Italy. The idea was that the painting represented the idea of the holiday, the idea of an escape - and this could be bought for the same price as the experience itself.

D. So, people could make the choice to go on holiday or have one of your paintings. Do you still make these paintings?

J. I haven't made any for a while but they are still available. There is a list of over 1000 that you can look through and choose from, like a brochure.

D. I've got a note in front of me that lists what I know of your work. I've got your Holiday Paintings, Pissing in the Sand, the Drunken Photos, the Bottle of Beer video that we made together, the stuff you made around the group KISS, your paintings of Notes On Doors and walls, the My Little Toilet show that you curated, an early text piece Can None Of You Fuckers Speak English, and the Sandwiches For Sale print edition. I know that there's more than this but even so, I can see a clear social strategy here. It's nothing so esoteric as Duchamp's attitude to the ready-made, but more to do with connecting certain social activities with the art world, and sometimes bringing the art world into contact with specific social occasions. I'm thinking here about My Little Toilet.

J. Yes, My Little Toilet. I just invited a group of artists to make work for my toilet, I even let it spill out into the hall. I liked the idea that things had to be so specific, you had to work in such a shitty little space. That appealed to me. To have art entirely stuck in the gallery context is kind of crap really.

D. Talking about My Little Toilet, you showed one of your Pissing in the Sand pieces there. I always thought they should be called pissing in the wind, haha.

J. Cheeky! I guess those pieces came from reading a book about the life of Jackson Pollock where, as a child, he and his older brother would try and piss their names in the sand. I know it's a kind of macho bravado thing, but it's quite funny. So, I just went to the beach with a bottle of water and pissed my name. You see a picture of me pissing and one with my name beautifuly written in the sand, you are left to decide whether I did it or cheated. Similarly with the Drunken Photographs where I'd said I'd drunk 10 pints. This is playing with those stupid teenage bragging sessions. 'Yeah, I drunk 10 pints last night and I don't even have a hangover today etc.' Alcohol mythology.

D. And this work kind of relates to the pieces that you are showing in Copenhagen.

J. Yeah.

D. Have you seen the drinking works that Gilbert and George made, they're great.

J. Yes, like the gin and tonic ones. Andy Warhol also made a film about a guy who drank a bottle of whiskey. He drank it and tried to leave the building and fell asleep, of course Andy kept the film rolling... It looks like a good movie.

D. Its like the holiday paintings again; the idea of the holidays is a certain escapism and now your on to drink, and we all know the kind of oblivion involved with alcohol. And not only a state of oblivion, but I've seen you, and I'm sure you've seen me, in states of total euphoria.

J. Yeah, remember that work we tried to make in Budapest with both of us in a room together, sitting at opposite corners. Both of us are blind drunk but one of us is laughing whilst the other one is crying, and then vice versa.

D. And it's not just us. I mean, remember the night at the Fruitmarket Gallery when Ross (Sinclair) did his performance. And Graham Gussin made a film of himself having just drunk a bottle of calvados.

J. And the Wilson twins on LSD in Vienna.

D. Why are we doing these things?

J. Generation X?

D. Don't make me laugh. I can't afford the time or money to bum around like that dopey guy in Wynona Ryder's film. It makes me sick.

J. Oh, you're such a Calvinist. The way I see it is if it is something that you enjoy, you should do it, why make things difficult. I guess it also has something to do with experimenting. Most people we know drink and maybe take drugs so its just taking it and making art out of it.

D. One of the pieces that you are going to be showing is the 'get shirty' piece. This is going to be a good white shirt that has beer spillage down it. And it's a relic or a prop from an action/performance that you made in the Mitre bar, in Glasgow. How will you present it?

J. This time I'm showing a videotape of the event itself and the prop, which is the shirt, left at the end of the performance. The tape will show me standing on the bar at the Mitre and drinking a yard of ale. So, again it's quite a traditional thing to do amongst certain people in Britain, and it's also a another quick way to oblivion. I can vouch for that.

D. You are working with attitudes, desires and activities that have a certain urban mythology attached to them. Are you trying to create a myth for/of yourself ? Is the beer stained shirt just a prop or do want it to be seen as a relic, much in the same way as Beuys' suit or hat?

J. Only time will tell, haha. I guess its a prop and a relic, if you will.

D. What else will be in the show as well as 'Get Shirty'?

J. I've made some new monochrome paintings based on those table tops you get in old bars; the ones that are three feet by one foot with the legs screwed down to the floor so you don't knock them over when you are drunk. It all came about quite naturally as I was sitting in the pub waiting for someone and I thought the rings left by the bottom of my pint looked interesting That's basically what the painting will be, black or grey paintings with beer marks on them. I think the context of showing work related to beer and drinking in Copenhagen is pretty appropriate, at least in relation to my previous visits. You know it's really expensive to buy a pint of beer in Denmark. But does that stop them? Not likely, mate. It's a real drinking culture, so I'm sure that Nicolai and everyone will understand the work quite well.

D. So the context has people well prepared.

J. Yeah, and within the gallery each work refers to another. Like, just round the corner from the paintings, and across from the video and shirt will be quite a melancholic piece made with a carpet; there is a little space off the main gallery and I am going to install a carpet, in white or cream, and spill a single glass of red wine on it.

D. How will we know that it's wine? Obviously it could be something else.

J. I think it is ambiguous, but within the show it should be clear. It's a sad scenario of the lonely drinker, spilling those last drops of wine. The thought that it could be blood is also sad.

D. Very lonely. It seems very British to be dealing with these things; escape, oblivion and humour. Perhaps not so much within the art tradition, but definitely within the culture of British comedy. All those tragic-comics that were still around when we were children. Like Tommy Cooper, god bless 'im. I really wanted to do a show with him you know.

J. Or, Tony Hancock, Benny Hill, Dick Emery.

D. Les Dawson.

J. Morecambe & Wise.

D. Oh yes, Morecambe and Wise! They kind of sum things up in many ways. Remember that song they used to sing to each other at the end of each show ?

J. It was called 'Bring Me Sunshine'.

D. Do you know the lyrics ?

J. Bring me sunshine, in your smile.

D. Bring me laughter, all the while.

J. In this world where we live, there should be more happiness.

D. So much joy you can give to each brand new bright tomorrow!

Together. Make me happy, through the years. Never bring me any tears. Let your arms be as warm as the sun from up above, Bring me fun, bring me sunshine, bring me love. Bring me sunshine in your eyes, Bring me rainbows from the skies. Life's too short to be spent having anything but fun. We can be so content if we gather little sunbeams. Be light hearted, all day long. Keep me singing happy songs. Let your arms be as warm as the sun from above, Bring me fun, bring me sunshine, bring me love.