|||||||||||||||| < |||||||||||||||||

 

 

Gordon Dalton:

Ok, I guess that we should try and be quite contentious given the title of the show...I think it would be good to be as honest as possible, whilst also lying to attempt to make us sound as interesting as possible.

Mark Gubb:

Isn't that what 'artists' do anyway?

GD:

Exactly... not be ashamed of what we do and try and make it 'clever', but say that artists are all charlatans really.

MG:

That's fine by me. I don't feel very clever at the moment. I have come to the conclusion that my work is just my take on the world. Working at that level allows me to not feel the need to be, as you say, clever about what I want to do, just have an innate knowledge that some people will find it interesting.

GD:

Some people get it, some don't. Whatever. I don't like jazz, rugby or theatre. I hate that notion that it has to be liked, or understood, or that as an artist I am going to tell you the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth. I prefer lies, cultural miscues, some kind of disinterested curiosity

I'll start the name calling later but what does the battle of Forest Hills mean to you?

MG:

The battle side of it means two people, with bizarrely like-minded outlooks within their work, facing off in a kind of 'compliment and conquer' sort of way. The overall title conjures a romantic, but down beat feeling/image in me, as Forest Hills just equates to the Ramones for me. I love the Ramones-NYC is an artistically romantic place-Forest Hills isn't. What about you?

GD:

What's not to like about the Ramones? Great tunes, great image, straight forward. But even they had all this fucked up conflict in the background. The whole battle scenario is quite fictional which I like, and the reference to Ramones, birth place of Peter Parker/Spiderman and his many foes just adds to that. There is also the obvious reference to Adidas trainers which leads onto to Run DMC vs Aerosmith etc. I like the spin-offs from a basic idea, and all the conflicts with in it. For me, the work is about that...the battle between two or more positions.

MG:

Yes, but I also think the idea of a battle gives it a bit of an edge. I've no specific desire to do battle with anyone, but I think it's quite honest in its acknowledgement of a desire for your work to be appreciated more than anybody else's.

GD:

Of course, there isn't enough honesty and competition. I also think I wanted to squash this notion of collaboration, I think it's pretty flawed.

MG:

I've spoken to artists who work collaboratively before who have basically described it as a pooling of individual ideas, with an inbuilt support system. That to me doesn't sound like what I think of when I think of collaboration. I've never really done anything collaboratively, but I have done stuff with other artists. I'm not sure what that makes it.

GD:

I mean, we decided to do some stuff together, and asked Bedwyr Williams to help out on one, and John in Memphis helped, but I never thought we were collaborating. If a plumber asks an electrician to help out are they collaborating?

 

MG:

No, I agree.

GD:

In a sense, this is a way of stopping working together, getting my ideas back 'cos I gave you all my good ones and I nicked most of yours, although you didn't have many.

MG:

I think you'll find that I was the one that brought out any good ones in you in the first place.

GD:

See, a placid exterior hides a boiling pit of creative jealousy in you.

MG:

How do you feel about the show being in Nottingham, my home turf? Does that make you Frank Bruno meeting Tyson in Vegas?

GD:

Very funny. Obviously I like the idea of being a pirate. Artists lie, cheat, steal and still have a romantic position, just like pirates.

MG:

I think, where as you want to be a pirate, I want to be a Mariachi. The romantic image of travelling with just a guitar on your back, a song in your heart and a kiss for a beautiful woman, plays in to the romantic stereotype of the artist. With your interests in music though, does it mean anything that Nottingham, the Midlands etc., is, literally, the home of the culture you grew up listening to?

GD:

I do find it funny that the Midlands is very proud of being the home of heavy metal. One of the things I like about the music is its romanticism, aspiration, escapism, not in a dungeons and dragons way, but just that there always seemed something better round the corner; everything beautiful is far away; grass is always greener, etc. I never wanted to escape to the Midlands. I do try and avoid the art/music analogy though, music always wins over art.

MG:

It's true and I'm not sure anyone could ever convince me otherwise. I've never been made to feel by art what music has made me feel.

GD:

The opposite to all that aspiration or escapism in most music is circumstance, and just accepting things for what they are. I guess my work swings between the two, between the everyday and the mythic.

MG:

In some way, my work's born out failing to be a rock star. I've always been a dreamer in that sense, not for stardom, but for whatever that 'thing' is that being a musician or an artist brings. I have to drag myself back from falling in to a well of nostalgia in my work all too often.

GD:

For me, that battle between success and failure is really important. There's arrogance involved obviously, but also a bit of not being quite sure of what you're doing but fuck it lets give it a go. I'm always looking for that 'did I do that' moment. It gets harder to find but that's when I know I'm onto something. I guess I'm just refusing to meet any expectations of what I do - good or bad. The only guarantee is doubt and disappointment.

MG:

The 'give it a go' attitude is all important in creating good work I believe. I came through a conceptually rigorous art education; having to justify everything to the utmost, but when I look back on my work now, it's the things that I was unsure about at the time that still hold up now.

GD:

But you are always re-editing, or reconfiguring an idea. Nostalgia is ok in that sense...it's ok to look back.

MG: Using existing material is a way in for the audience; it's instantly recognisable/familiar and therefore engaging. I could try and make a piece of work about the relationship between alternative comedy and politics in the 80's and expend most of my energy trying to reference these two points. If I use footage from The Young Ones, it cuts straight to the issue and lets me talk from there. I also see the use of re-edited things, particularly sound, as a kind of audio crossword clue; if you can figure out where the sound's from, it'll give you another clue as to what the work's about.

GD:

I do like to mess with that though. Set up some dead ends so it's like an aesthetic and conceptual hall of mirrors... bouncing the spectator between extremes of naiveté, mean-spirited sophistication, calculated ugliness, the sublime and the ridiculous. Just playing with peoples expectations of what they are looking at.

MG:

I've no idea what people's expectations of me and my work are. I guess that by using the stuff I do, I'm immediately not inviting in a section of my potential audience i.e. those who don't know/like the kinds of film, TV and music I do, but then what can I really do about that?

GD:

I'm not particularly interested in translating any message to a huge audience, which is just as well really. There is that expectation that artists are some kind of entertainer or alchemist on the scale of cinema or sport or music, when it can never live up to that.

MG:

Art is like your little cousin, always tugging at your arm, desperate for attention, making himself sick on jelly just so people look. I'm not very good at being subtle. It's always desperate to be cool but just appearing sad.

GD:

So do you want to win this battle? I think it's the one profession where it's ok to be a loser?

MG:

Of course I want to win. If that means paying someone to assassinate you on the opening night, so be it. You are in Nottingham after all...

Gordon Dalton would like to thank:

Everyone at Moot; Anthony Shapland, G39; Jeannine Griffin, Art Sheffield; CBAT; Grol (the true anal!); Kristina Incuriate, CAC; Marek & team at Moravian Gallery; Sarah, Billy, Kirsten and team at Collective Gallery; Jennie Savage at www.starradio.org ; James & Anna, Aldo Rinaldi, Paul & Nadia; Paul & Chris at Vane; Andrew & Simon at Keith Talent Gallery; Chapter Gallery, Arts Council of Wales; Rob Kennedy for all his help this year: www.robthings.com ; friends and family...and Han & Nan.

Mark would like to thank:

Moot, Adam Sutherland and all at Grizedale (including Jake), ben/and/phil/projects/, Sarah Glennie, Ceri Hand, Beata and all at Bunkier Sztuki, Gary Thomas, Arts Council England, Margaret Hunt and John Keys, Bedwyr Williams, John Weeden, Luke (keeping that dream alive), Danny, P'Arse, Cotters, Tod, Brock, Clive Caswell, James Hetfield, Steve Harris, Mum n Dad n family n friends, and my beautiful Griffter.