My 2012 Interview with 'NakedButSafe' Magazine, for which I later became London Arts Editor

Australia is a land that remains quite exotic in a cultural sense. Europeans, and I guess Americans, rarely get exposed to the Australian zeitgeist, and even if they do it’s usually when they are exposed to mainstream and globalised efforts, like a Baz Luhrman film. I am pretty sure Australia produces alternative and underground culture, which goes much further and deeper than re-imagining Scott Fitzgerald. Would you say Australia is culturally isolated? Why would that be, since there is no language barrier, if we accept English as the international lingua franca? Would you like to talk about or even suggest some Australian thinkers, artists and writers with whom Europe and America, or even the world should be more acquainted?

Yes, Australia is culturally isolated. It is situated a long way from the US and from Europe and so whenever books on international art are published Australian artists are usually completely overlooked, as if there is no point even thinking about us. Unfortunately, on the rare occasion that our arts-bureaucrats stage a major exhibition of our national art overseas, such as this year’s Australia at London’s Royal Academy, they always make timid, unimaginative curatorial decisions whereby the same few names are wheeled out with monotonous regularity, as if they are all we have to offer. These narrow and safe representations of Australian art are inaccurate because they exclude any work that is risky, edgy or challenging, or which might rock the boat in some way. There are certainly world-class artists working in Australia today who do not have the exposure in the outside world that they deserve, such as the painter Gareth Sansom, now in his seventies and making the best pictures of his career. Because of its isolation Australia is still quite insecure about just how it ‘fits in’ with other cultures – although its growing preference seems to be the US as its model for emulation. White settlement (some prefer invasion) of Australia is only a little over two-hundred years old and Australian politicians have only very recently publically acknowledged the dreadful history of slaughter, during the early white colonisation, of the indigenous first inhabitants. As a nation we still have a lot of growing and maturing to do – psychologically as well as culturally. The general population of Australia, even today, maintains a deep suspicion of artists and their work and of intellectualism in any form. There is a long history of Australian artists, writers and intellectuals, such as Patrick White, Germaine Greer, Barry Humphries, Sydney Nolan, Albert Tucker, Clive James, Lee Bowery, to name but a few, who have felt they had to base themselves for varying lengths of time overseas in order to nurture their work in a more supportive cultural milieu. The most common reaction from the general population, even today, is that these brilliant expatriates are somehow traitors. But that is just evidence of the old insecurities rising up once again.  

Considering you decided to move to London next year, after having a very successful career down under, and having followed your online expressions of indignation about the state of recent socio-political Australian affairs, would you describe for our readers what made you take such a radical decision?

I will be leaving Australia at the end of May and my plan is to settle in the UK, as I have a British passport. There are three main reasons behind this. The first is that I have become increasingly dismayed by the way that Australia has been sliding backwards in many socio-political areas. This has been noticeable for the past decade or so, but really over the last twelve-months the situation has become much worse. Some of the hard-won humanitarian and social advances that we once had in place, and which a civilized country takes for granted, are now under threat and are being steadily eroded. Our current right-wing government seems intent on dragging us all back to a 1950s ‘morality’ system, which takes its cue from the Church. The government clings to a very narrow, anachronistic view of ‘The Family’ and ‘Family Values’ (whatever they might be!), and discounts anything that falls outside of that, such as the GLBTI community. Incredibly, the prime minister is actually on record as having said, some time ago: ‘I do feel threatened by gay people’. To top it off, parliament here continues to crush any possibility of marriage equality for gay people, despite the growing example of other forward-thinking countries across the western world. This clearly indicates to me and many thousands of Australian gay and lesbian people that we are still considered second-class citizens who are not as ‘valid’ as our heterosexual neighbours. The second reason for my leaving is the government’s unconscionable treatment of asylum seekers who flee to our country for refuge. The prime minister’s office has ordered that asylum seekers must now officially be called ‘illegal arrivals’ or ‘detainees’ – a move that is designed to both dehumanise desperate people and to play into the hands of the racist element within Australia, which is becoming more bold in expressing its xenophobia in recent years. And, the third reason for me leaving is that as an artist I find I can no longer make my work against the backdrop of moral hysteria that has been focused at contemporary art in this country over the last few years. This has reached ridiculous proportions lately, with certain artists being arrested and their work seized by police and removed from the walls of well-respected galleries. A couple of weeks ago police in all seriousness stated that they were ‘monitoring’ an exhibition about the vagina - which would be laughable if it wasn’t actually pathetic. Many artists now feel they have to do some sort of self-censoring before staging their exhibitions for fear of the real possibility of a raid by police if they present work that deals with certain ‘unacceptable’ subject matter. Unfortunately, the Australia Council, whose role should be to objectively support and foster all kinds of art, for the enrichment of the culture, is now adopting the government’s puritanical and censorious perspective on any work of art that does not reach certain very narrow standards of imposed ‘morality’. I recently spent a month in London where I saw many art works that would almost certainly not be allowed to be shown in Australia today. For me and my fellow Australian artists, the notion that we may only make and exhibit our work if it falls within state-sanctioned parameters is horrendous. Proscribing art and stifling freedom of expression is always the first step of right-wing governments. We don’t have to look very far back in world history to see the awful examples of where this can lead.

 

You have attracted a lot of hostile criticism for the content of your work, which has included uncomfortable, even taboo subjects, such as child criminality or investigated morbid cases of pathological psychology. What have you learnt while fighting these conflicts?

Even as a child I was very interested in what might be called dark subject matter. I spent a lot of the time daydreaming, in my own head space, inventing monsters and other grotesqueries in my imagination, which I would then draw. In my career as an artist I have developed and extended these early interests. I have made paintings about certain murder cases that have interested me because of their strangeness. When I was sixteen I first became interested in the 1960s Moors Murders case. This developed into a kind of obsession that haunted me for the next two decades, during which I read every book written about the case and I managed to obtain a transcript of the trial. In 1987 I put together a whole exhibition about the murders, which I called Beyond Belief, after the title of Emlyn William’s great book about the case. At the time, many people couldn’t understand why anyone would want to make art about such a subject. My response was always: Why not? These same people wouldn’t think twice about watching a movie about a celebrated real-life crime, so why shouldn’t an artist also be able to explore such things in their work? I also received quite a lot of criticism for my 1995 exhibition, Kinderspiel (Child’s Play). This show dealt with real cases where children had murdered other children. In my research for the exhibition I had discovered over fifty documented cases across the world since 1945 - approximately one a year. The level of hostility I received from the public for this show was very surprising to me, particularly as none of the works were in any way graphically violent or salacious. It quickly became clear that people really didn’t want to face the fact that given the wrong set of circumstances in their formative years children were sometimes capable of barbarity. It also showed me that many people have a completely false idea about what art is. These people cling to a bourgeois notion that art should only be an attractive, decorative and uplifting artifact that is going to make them feel happy when it’s hanging over their mantelpiece. Well, I have never made art for these people. I make my art primarily for myself and for that I make no apologies. This is how art should be made, with an artist seriously investigating subjects or processes that obsess them. I am a purist on this matter and I believe that if an artist begins to compromise their position, or self-censor their work, or to make their work simply for the market, they have lost their integrity, and once that is gone it is rarely recovered. The people who appreciate and collect my work understand that some art may be challenging when it deals with dark areas of human existence. When we think of some of the greatest works of art through history they are often depicting images of appalling cruelty. But we are all implicated in this horror that rolls on through the ages. It is simply the history of our humanity. If we watch the news on television it is a never-ending procession of horror, night after night. Unfortunately, that is the world in which we live. It is the human condition, as it always has been and probably always will be. To think that art should suddenly ignore all of this is quite ridiculous.

 Even though your work often directly depicts, or indirectly references, homosexuality, you seem to avoid iconography that can be easily read as “gay art”. Formally, your work is not only far removed from the candid homoeroticism of Tom of Finland, but also eschews other obvious and predictable mannerisms of homoerotic art, such as the neo-classical lyricism of Paul Cadmus, the heady camp of James Bidgood or the underground dreamscapes of Kenneth Anger. In short, I would say you paint in the manner of a non-denominational contemporary artist, while remaining pre-occupied with specific subject matter. Is this conscious on your part? Do you cringe when your work is classified as “gay art” and is your formal detachment from the trappings of such art an effort to distance yourself from the perils of stereotyping?

I have always felt that my homosexuality is an enormous privilege for which I am immensely grateful. As a child growing up my awareness of my sexuality gave me a strong sense of being ‘out of step’ with straight society, and this is an experience I share with most gay people. I think this early recognition of an ‘outsider’ position gives gay people a profound sense of just how artificial and fragile the whole construct of the heteronormative society actually is. This is something that straight people never have to ponder because the unquestioned ‘supremacy’ of their heterosexuality is taken for granted and is constantly reinforced via all levels of the media because it’s all intrinsically bound up in consumerism.  In my work when I deal with gay themes I tend to do so in a very matter of fact way because my homosexuality is a matter of fact to me. I would hope that my work is seen as being art that happens to be made by a gay artist, rather than ‘gay art’, as this label is very often used, particularly by straight commentators, as a way of safely ghettoizing or even somehow putting down the work of gay artists in some way. I think there is more going on in my work than just gay themes, but I am also sure that my homosexuality has given my work a slant or direction that wouldn’t be there had I been born straight. In saying that, I have always been a fierce champion for the rights of my gay brothers and sisters and I have also made polemical works that have drawn attention to the inequities of gay lives, such as my picture For the Others which refers to the estimated fifteen-thousand gay people who were murdered during the Holocaust, who have until recently been overlooked by historians. I have also made a series of works on homophobia, amongst other related topics.

 Do you have a specific intention about your work? Is there an over-reaching theme, a clear-cut goal towards which you are striving as an artist? Do you see your work as an ongoing “Gesamstkunstwerk” or is every piece an individual and independent effort, whose relationship with the previous or next ones is merely circumstantial, even just a matter of common authorship?

Most of my work is made in response to a particular theme that I am interested in exploring at the time. Sometimes this theme is decided on before I make the work but more often these days it is suggested to me after several works seem to be pointing to a certain direction. These works then gradually become the basis for an exhibition which I work towards. I have never had a plan for the direction of my work. Over the years I have come to recognise certain recurring themes or images that I was usually unconscious of at the time. Sometimes I have reinvestigated subjects from my past work. I have always allowed myself the freedom to move at will between various figurative styles, or to combine areas of abstraction with figuration, or to work in a completely traditional way, or to combine unusual mediums etc. It is no longer the case that artists are expected to work within narrow parameters that easily define their work. I am not concerned that there are a number of separate branches within my body of work. That is really immaterial to me. And in any event, after I’m dead all of the work will just be considered a cohesive body of art from one person.

 The issue of male nudity is still considered controversial – recently in Paris, at the Musée d’Orsay, there was an exhibition reviewing the male nude in art through the centuries, a curatorial theme which perversely only further stressed the fact that audiences need a specific framework to examine this subject matter, as if the image of a naked man outside a strictly designated context would be unexpected, and most possibly controversial. I sometimes think that the penalization and demonization of male sexuality, irrespective of hetero- or homo- assignations, is a well-concealed and very strong cultural undercurrent, the other side of a culture of guilt that objectifies and thus regulates the bodies and sexuality of women. What are your thoughts about this? Is the male human being an oppressed sexual agent? Would masculinism be a legitimate activist cause?

I have sometimes exhibited drawings and watercolours of male nudes. This subject matter is almost unknown in contemporary heterosexual art, so the showing of these works of mine in public almost equates to an act of gay propaganda. Our society is filled with anxiety over the male nude and there is a great taboo about revealing the penis. I once staged an exhibition titled Testosterone Zone which included many drawings of male nudes. A lot of people, and in particular straight men, found it to be very confronting, and some of them were vocal in their condemnation. At the exhibition opening some muttered that they found the work disgusting and there were a lot of clearly embarrassed men nervously avoiding eye contact with the pictures, and with each other. I think you are absolutely correct about the cultural undercurrents. The penis is forbidden in our society today because once it is revealed it is perceived to be somehow vulnerable and our culture is predicated upon the supposed invulnerability of heterosexual male power structures. Historically, women have always been depicted in complete nakedness by heterosexual male artists and this came to symbolize their lack of status or power. The problem for many people today is that when a gay male artist makes images of male nudes he not only reveals the forbidden penis but because of his assumed erotic interest he also automatically undermines the deeply ingrained heteronormative notions about its life-giving functionality. It is a kind of subversion that can cause great anxiety, which is one of the reasons that I intend to keep doing it.

Europe, at the moment, is undergoing yet another one of the turbulent periods it is known for.  Social discontent with neoliberal policies is expressing itself in quite ugly ways, including a worrying rise in neo-Nazi politics, such as the ones espoused by Lepen in France or Golden Dawn in Greece. Population dislocation is altering the social landscape, either with the constant influx of desperate “boat people” from war-torn areas of the world or with “financial refugees” escaping the crisis ravaging Southern Europe in search of jobs and a better future in the relative affluence of the North. As a consequence, cultural irritability is widespread, with Islamophobia, xenophobia, homophobia and various other reactionary and dangerous forms of intolerance and racism being expressed openly, and often, murderously. All in all, the socio-political landscape is dark. What are your thoughts about these developments? What is the role of an artist during times of conflict?

Worryingly, in Australia, right across the country, we are experiencing a rise in jingoistic nationalism. This has been ‘legitimised’ by our government’s appalling, inhumane treatment of the refugees who have sought sanctuary on our shores. For me it has been quite terrifying to witness how quickly a nation can turn from a tolerant multicultural society to one where racist attacks and homophobia are now commonplace and on the increase. Historically, artists have always used their skills to draw attention to social injustices or to lampoon tyrants and dictators, and because of this they are usually amongst the first to feel the crushing heel of totalitarian governments. As an artist I have felt compelled to sometimes comment in my work on certain injustices and to attack the corruption of certain people who are abusing their positions of power. In a progressive country an artist can take it for granted that they have freedom to express these sorts of view, even if those views run contrary to the prevailing government. However, as we know, the mark of a nation’s slide into totalitarianism is always the sudden rise of nationalistic xenophobia paired with an increase in government censorship of art and ideas, and Australia can now tick both of these boxes.

 We both belong to a middle aged constituency that remembers days when the issue of gay marriage was not even on the political agenda. Obviously, things have changed radically since then. How responsible do you feel towards young people today, or even the generation that is still in its infancy? Do you ever feel that our struggles for a more egalitarian and free society are going to be successful and enjoyed by forthcoming generations and we might only get to sow seeds of progress which will bear fruit beyond our life span?

I am from the Punk generation, which gave me a kind of anarchic view of the establishment and an understanding that anger can be a positive energy when directed at mindless authoritarianism. Consequently, my view of the struggle for gay rights is intrinsically linked to my desire to challenge the establishment. For me, the fight for gay equality began the moment I came out at fifteen and will undoubtedly continue until I die. It always saddens me when I hear young gay people say that they are not political. I realise that certain social advances have been made. And I realise that some of the overwhelming inequalities of the past for gay people have been lessened somewhat. But there is still a long way to go. I think it is important that young gay people are reminded that these advances are incredibly recent. It was only in 1967 that homosexuality was decriminalised in the UK, where gay men had previously faced imprisonment with hard labour. And it was only in the mid-1970s that homosexuality was officially removed from US psychiatry’s list of mental illnesses. Before this, gay men in the US were routinely given shock treatment or even lobotomised in an attempt to ‘cure’ them. I think it is the duty of all gay people, whatever their age, to continue to make a stand against homophobia, wherever they encounter it, even in little ways. A good start would be to decry the word ‘gay’ when it is used, as it commonly is these days, as a pejorative term for anything that is considered worthless.

How involved are you in the contemporary art world? Does your move to London herald a new period for your work, possibly the beginning of a dialogue on a different, bigger scale of making and showing art, perhaps more closely related to the hype and ambition of the international art scene?

As an artist I am very much involved in the contemporary art world. I exhibit my work regularly across several states in Australia; I visit Art Fairs and Biennales and I keep abreast of what is going on in contemporary art and the changing trends that are occurring all the time. Whenever I travel overseas the primary reason is to visit the major public art galleries or to see specific exhibitions by certain artists who I am interested in. I am excited to see just how my move to London will affect my art. I am sure that my work will change due to the new environment, but I have no idea what this change will look like. I have no immediate plans for the future of my art. I have a sense that there will be a larger audience for my work in London and that perhaps this audience may be more receptive to my imagery. But that is just my gut reaction and it remains to be seen. Whatever happens, I will be happy to live in a city where so many exciting exhibitions are staged and where such great art is on display in public collections.

 Do you believe that the narrative of art is still dominated by Western white thought? How far has the understanding and study of art evolved since the times of Picasso appropriating African aesthetics for the beneficial enrichment of European culture? Do you believe that even though more alternatives are being promoted, i.e. even though more non-Western/white artists are being shown and critiqued by the international art scene we are still at the stage where Western white institutions and capital dominate the art discourse? I mean, Art Forum, Miami Basel, Dokumenta, or Sotheby’s are hardly run by, say, non-English speaking Nigerian lesbian anarchist collectives, or the premier digital art festival Ars Electronica is definitely not curated by suicidal Chinese slaves in Apple factories. Similarly, every powerful structure you see in the international art world is mostly controlled by privileged, white Western Europeans. Why do you think is the Western white art establishment so slow to respond to universal reality? In comparison, the media have truly globalized their vision, thanks to the plurality of internet sources.

I think that artists and art itself are rapidly moving away from one-dimensional, Western white thought. But I think that this is happening at a faster rate than Western white institutions can quite grasp. Of course, these institutions are driven and motivated primarily by money rather than any deep desire to reflect real developments in world art.    But I think there are major shifts just beginning to happen in a whole range of areas, which will ultimately have a huge impact on the future direction of art. The first of these is the growing dissatisfaction with traditional art school training. As most art schools today are under the auspices of a university there are often unrealistic expectations for them to conform to standards that are totally immaterial to the development of creative artists and which are often at odds with the art students’ essential development of lateral thinking. There are a growing number of potential students who are now beginning to question the importance of having an art degree and are seeking alternative training, such as with individual mentors who are also practitioners. It is no longer the case that it is necessary for a university to validate one’s credentials as an artist. Similarly, more artists are looking outside the traditional gallery system and seeking alternative venues in which to exhibit their work. I think that artists are also rightly beginning to question the validity of the largely self-appointed role of contemporary Art Curators, who tend to believe that they are forging culture merely by collecting a few artists together from time to time in an exhibition. I think that all of these recent developments underscore a general dissatisfaction with institutions and the way they operate. I think there are exciting changes ahead.

 How important is the Internet for you? Do you keep up with the online aesthetics of digital art, video games, YouTube, Vimeo or even Tumblr? How do you deal with the phenomenon of too much information? As an artist, does it sometimes feel daunting to realize that your work is only going to be another drop in an ever expanding ocean of innumerable images chasing one another on a screen?

I am an avid user of the Internet. I have a website which showcases a history of my work, I have a Tumblr account, I have a blog, and I have a Facebook account. I use Google when looking for source material for my paintings or digital work. It plays an enormous part in my life and I would feel lost without it. I don’t worry that my work will just become images on a screen. In fact, via Tumblr, I have made digital images specifically to be shared around online. I am also aware of a number of images of my paintings that have appeared on other people’s websites because they happen to like the image. This doesn’t bother me in the slightest. We live in the age of the Internet – which is one of the most important inventions in human history. I think it is important to embrace it.

 As far as I have seen – and please forgive me if I am wrong – you seem to insist on quite traditional media, such as drawing, painting and collage. Does the accessibility and user-friendliness of modern technology ever tempt you to experiment with other media, such as film, photography or even music? Would you, for example, collaborate on an interdisciplinary project, say the design of theater scenery using video-mapping techniques?

For the last two decades I have concentrated on making works on paper with a combination of: drawing; watercolour; gouache; ink; acrylic and collage. I have spent my career learning the craft and refining my skills to the point where I feel I have a highly developed expertise in these traditional media. I am not someone who believes that ‘traditional’ necessarily equals ‘old fashioned’ and I have always been willing to push these materials in all sorts of non-traditional ways should the direction of the painting dictate it. I have also recently been making digital collages with Photoshop, which excite me very much. I am very interested in the possibility of film as another medium for exploration; in fact I have prepared a number of film treatments and scripts over the last couple of years. I have also been more involved recently in writing articles for art magazines and art reviews etc.

Do you travel often? Do you have an active interest in first-hand experience in foreign cultures and societies?

I do love travelling and experiencing other cultures that I am unfamiliar with. One of the most intense experiences was in 1983 when my then partner and I were robbed at Cairo airport and so were trapped in that city for two weeks without any money. The sheer horror of the situation subsequently inspired a lot of my work, so it was an experience I don’t regret having. In 1989 I had a three-month residency in Northern Italy and I traveled extensively in that region, also spending time in Milan and Venice. When I am based in London next year I plan to travel extensively in Europe.

 Apart from the visual arts, which other art forms are your favorites?

I could not exist without music. Since I sold all of my vinyl collection some years ago, I have amassed thousands of digital tracks on my computer. I have an extremely varied taste that includes anything from Classical, to Punk, to Rock, to Trance and Hardcore. I cannot make work in silence. It is essential for me to have music playing when I work.

 Do you read? What is the book you are currently reading?

I am a voracious reader and have been since a child. Great favourites have been Charles Dickens, William Burroughs, Martin Amis and Will Self. I have just finished ‘Gay Life and Culture: A World History’. I am halfway through ‘The Wasp Factory’ by Iain Banks, and waiting in the wings I have ‘On Some Faraway Beach: The Life and Times of Brian Eno’.

 

What advice would you give to a younger artist who admires you?

My advice to young artists has always been: Remember that an art career is not a race but is spread over a lifetime. Despite what is usually taught in art schools these days, do not be in a hurry to have your first exhibition. You will almost certainly come to regret that you showed this work in public and that it is now permanently on your record. No artist has ever emerged from art school with their practical knowledge and their conceptual development fully formed, so why should they want to inflict that on the public? The next thing to remember is that art is about giving yourself permission. Give yourself permission to follow your imagery down all of the dark lanes it wants to take. Give yourself permission to experiment freely. Give yourself permission to make mistakes. Give yourself permission to love what you do. Nobody else is going to give you permission to do these things, they are only going to give you reasons why you shouldn’t.

 Would you care to mention some of your favorite contemporary artists from any field?

The list is long, but I’ll just mention three.
David Bowie for showing me when I was fourteen that there was a glittering, fabulous other world out there for a gay kid about to emerge from the closet, and that it was ok not to conform.
The British painter Peter Blake for showing me that watercolour was a valid medium to use in contemporary practice.
Francis Bacon for showing me the importance of never compromising my work under any circumstance. 

Tell us about something improbable or unexpected side of your personality.
I am a sucker for cheap sentiment and I sometimes find myself weeping while watching ‘So You Think You Can Dance’ or advertisements for toilet tissue that feature little ducklings etc.

 Do you ever meditate on your posthumous fame, your heritage to the world, what you will have contributed towards humanitarian enlightenment?
I don’t ruminate on this very much. Like all artists, I hope that my work will continue to be of interest to people after I’m dead. But all of that is out of my control and I’ll never know if it happens or not. I would like to think that some of my work has contributed positively to the human experience and that I might have revealed some universal truths of the human condition. But for me the most important thing about making a picture is that I have locked down something has emerged from my unconscious and I have guided it into formation in the best way I can. Anything after that is a bonus.