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THE OUTPUT
PODCAST |
BRYAN BIGGS (17/08/22) |
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PLEASE
NOTE - Due to licensing issues surrounding the use of music in this
episode, it is ONLY available via Spotify.
Hello
and welcome, once again, to the OUTPUT podcast. I’m your host, Michael
Lacey. If this is your first time listening, OUTPUT is an art gallery
in Liverpool City Centre and we work exclusively with creatives who are
from or based in the region. We use this podcast as a space to chat
with the artists we exhibit and offer a deeper look into their
practice. We’ve recently done exhibitions with Tommy Husband, Aline
Costa, Ellie Hoskins, DREAMCHORD, Kiara Mohamed - some amazing projects
that you can still explore on our website outputgallery.com and a lot
of those names will be coming up as guests on the podcast soon.
But
in a slight change from routine, today we’re talking to Bryan Biggs, a
curator, writer, historian and artist who has had a long involvement
with the arts in Liverpool through his role at the Bluecoat gallery,
just down the road from OUTPUT on School Lane in Liverpool. It’s the
oldest arts centre in the UK based in the oldest building in Liverpool.
I met with Bryan a few weeks ago to ask him about the many projects
he’s been involved in over the years, a lot of which have combined
visual arts with music, so to really tell those stories properly we’ll
have some music in this episode. If the device you’re listening to this
on is signed into a paid Spotify account, you’ll hear the full songs,
and free users will get 30 second samples I think. We also discuss the
origins of the Bluecoat, how Liverpool’s art and music scenes have
changed over the years, the importance of clubs like Eric’s, Yoko Ono’s
first visit to Liverpool in the 60s and loads more. It’s quite a long
episode this, with the music as well, so settle in!
Bryan -
your role at Bluecoat currently is as director of Cultural Legacies,
can you tell us a bit about the sort of work you’ve been doing?
Well
we're doing quite a lot of work interrogating our history, because the
Bluecoat - as you probably know, Michael - is the oldest building in
the city centre. It goes back 300 years, originally a charity school,
funded by the church, which was opposite, and supported mainly by
merchants involved in the new, burgeoning dock that was just built down
the road and become known as the Old Dock. It was the first wet dock in
the world. That's really what powered Liverpool's growth in a sense,
that and the trade it dealt with, which was mainly trade with the
American colonies and Africa. Obviously, central to that was the slave
trade. So I've always been interested in really getting to the bottom
of how involved were those merchants in the slave trade who supported
the school through subscriptions or donations, being trustees and so
on. I knew it was extensive but we've been working with a PHD student
called Michelle Girvan at the University of Liverpool, on a
collaborative doctorate award, and she's come up with some quite
remarkable statistics, drilling down into the figures that are there.
There's a thing called the Slave Voyages Database, which gives you all
the details, so we know exactly how many slave ships Bryan Blundell,
who was the main benefactor of the school, him and his family sponsored
over a 60 year period in the 18th Century. We know how many Africans
they captured and we know how many died on the passage, so that
information is really important. The last few years we've been working
on that, using that evidence if you like, to work with a group of young
people in Liverpool 8 at the Greenhouse Project, from very diverse
backgrounds, who have connections through family to all parts of the
world. Places that were touched by, or the result of, colonialism.
We've been bringing together historical research with young peoples'
lives and what are the impacts, the legacies, that started 30 years ago
and are continuing today. Of course when Black Lives Matter happened in
the middle of this project, it gave it a new urgency, that we need to
address these issues, about the continuing racism, institutional
racism. So it's political, but that doesn't mean there's not creativity
within it. It's very artistic and we just let the young people do what
they want. They came up with the idea for the programme which has
resulted in an exhibition which has just finished and a series of
events, live events for the public. It's something we're going to
continue to investigate. This is such an iconic building and it is the
remaining symbol of Liverpool's colonial history. If you look at the
waterfront, that's much later, that's Victorian. The big buildings on
the Pier Head, you can do so much with them, but I just think this
building, the guys who funded it and prospered from the kids who went
to the school here, they were heavily involved in the slave trade. So
that's why we're doing it.
Even though that exhibition is
finished now you can still engage with a lot of that content through
the website and online, because it's ongoing work, can't you?
Yes,
a lot of that material is now online, and we're adding to it. I think
people, if they're interested, there's loads of stuff. But if you're an
academic, there's actually really interesting primary research material
there. As well, it's very important to say this, documentation of
artists that have been doing this for a very long time. So the
Bluecoat's first engagement, if you like, with artists that were
interested in these colonial themes, goes back to 1985 with Keith
Piper, Sonia Boyce and Eddie Chambers. These were artists that were at
the forefront of a new generation of artists, mostly in their 20s,
coming out of art school, trying to find a route through the art world,
dealing with very difficult issues around identity, race and so on. We
supported those artists early on, so it's important to remember that we
have that history of working with those artists as well as the stuff
we're doing now. It's an ongoing, unfolding story.
That's
not just that the Bluecoat has been doing that work since the 80s, you
personally have been engaged with that work haven't you, because you've
been at the Bluecoat for how long..?
Oh,
a long time! Even earlier... in the late 70s actually. I went to art
school in Liverpool, came to art school from North London and I stayed
on. I went straight in to working in the arts which was great, to get a
job straight away, it wasn't the job I'm doing now, but it was an
administrative job. I've been at the Bluecoat ever since. It's a very
long time! I feel like if anyone knows the way, how important the
building is to the city in the last 40 years or so, it's probably me
because I've been involved in a lot of the changes we've made in the
building. We've seen lots of artists and really great people over the
years.
You've slightly answered this already but the
first question I was going to ask you about Liverpool was when you came
here and why, and why you've stayed so long?
Well
I came to Liverpool to study at the art school, which then was on Hope
Street, and it had an annexe called the Deaf School which a very
popular band came out of there, an art school band, friends of mine.
They rehearsed at the deaf school, studied there... it became John
Moore's University but it was then Liverpool Polytechnic, it was the
art department. I did fine art, after three years I finished and
decided just to stay on. I got a job that Summer at the Bluecoat, so,
why leave? But to answer your question of what made me stay... partly
obviously because I really liked the job here, partly because I started
a family, and I suppose overall because I just found the city hugely
stimulating at every level. In terms of its architecture and all the
cliches about Liverpool. At that time, 1972 I came, it was starting
that slow decline. The slow decline had started before then but you
were starting to see the real effects of that de-industrialisation. I
don't want to romanticise how wonderful derelict docks are, but there
was something quite visually really interesting, that you got these
miles of docks that were dying and communities that were being broken
up through the loss of jobs and industry. Out of that comes something,
you start to ask questions. When did it all start? It goes back to the
18th Century in a sense, this was a colonial port and all of its
success was down to trade with the rest of the world, it was a port
city. And when the port stopped being a port, what future does it have?
You get these real tensions, political tensions and tensions in the
social fabric. The buildings themselves are falling down. For the
artists, it was a really great place to work, not that I want that to
be the only place an artist can work. It was very stimulating for me as
someone interested in the visual, literature, and in music. All of
those were very strong currents in Liverpool, even at a time when
frankly the music was not great, in the early 70s. The Beatles had long
left town and they were unique, there was nothing that could replace
them. I think Liverpool was actually quite a way behind other cities at
that time, who had much livelier scenes. But within, by the mid 70s, it
starts to grow again. As I say, Deaf School was incredibly important
for stimulating the local music scene, and then of course punk came
along. Punk came along, but Eric's was there to filter it into
something different. That's an important distinction to make, because I
don't think Liverpool was really a punk city. Punk was, in my opinion,
a fabrication. But it latched onto something, that there was a need for
young people to reject the way popular music was going - prog rock, and
things that were seen as overblown. People wanted to return to a more
rootsy sort of music. That struck a chord in Liverpool but not
necessarily through punk. There were punk bands, but a club like
Eric's, always maintained it was not a punk club. I knew Roger, he set
it up basically, and he said I'm just using punk, at the time, because
that's where the energy is. If you run a club, you need to find the
energy that's happening in music and make sure those people come to
your club. The vehicle for that at the time was punk music and the
scene that came out of that in Liverpool, which I wouldn't say was punk
- bands like Echo and the Bunnymen and Teardrop Explodes, Big In Japan
could be seen as quite punky. It developed into something quite
different, which was partly the influence of deaf school, so there was
like an art school sensibility. There was a lot of disaffected kids who
couldn't get into or didn't want to go to the other clubs in town,
because the clubs in town were pretty... not very nice places, unless
you liked a particular type of, you know, aggressive culture. Eric's
was a beacon for me, certainly, a venue to go and listen to the latest
interesting bands. Roger absolutely had his finger on the pulse, and it
was the only place you could hear good reggae, which for me was really
important. By that time I was getting into roots reggae and getting
interested in ska, and this morphed into roots reggae. You couldn't
hear it anywhere live, very few places would do reggae. Roger would put
that on, he'd put on interesting jazz nights, folk things, and of
course, all the latest bands. So you could see The Clash and The
Damned... I didn't see the Pistols, but they did play there once. Then
all the bands that followed in their wake, a huge list of very
important bands who all played at Eric's, just a little club down
Matthew Street. Right opposite where the Cavern had been, so it was
like lightning striking twice in a way. That's probably kept me here, I
feel like Liverpool is quite separate from other places that I knew a
bit about. I grew up on the edges of London and just felt it was quite
parochial, where I was, growing up. Liverpool was at the centre of
something but it wasn't recognised as being, it wasn't London.
MUSIC: BIG IN JAPAN - BIG IN JAPAN
You've
talked about the importance of music in being what's attracted you and
kept you in Liverpool and obviously that's factored into your work as a
curator at the Bluecoat over the years - are there any specific
projects where you’ve brought those two things together?
Yeah,
I mean, the Bluecoat's had a long history with contemporary music,
across all different types of genres. I edited a book with John Belchem
a couple of years ago about Bluecoat being the first arts centre in the
UK, which is true, it was formed in 1927 formally but before that,
there were artists working in the building since 1907. Music was always
very strong, Stravinsky was here in the 1930s. He didn't perform here,
he dined here. There was a music culture, it was mainly around
classical music but more experimental classical music. Then in the 60s
you get Wendy Harp who went on to work with Bill Harp, her husband, in
running the Black-E - she was the programmer in the late 60s, and put
on some really great British jazz staff. Further on we had very good
music programmers, people like Chris Lay who was from the Icicle Works,
he was a music programmer here and put on a lot of great bands. Then
Jayne Casey, who of course was in Big In Japan, and we're going to play
that track, their eponymous first single... So there's always been an
interesting strand of music. In that book I mentioned, we commissioned
Roger Hill to write the chapter on music. It's a really brilliant
chapter that does connect right back to the origins of the arts centre,
the early days, full of music, right through to more contemporary
stuff. But I've always been somebody who's arty, I trained as a visual
artist and I've always been interested in that crossover between art
and pop, art and rock music, going right back to the obvious people
like the Beatles and the Stones who had members that had been to art
school. There were several books written about the art school
connection with pop, making the claims that it is what distinguishes it
from American pop music, for instance. The art schools really had a
huge impact in the 60s particularly, and the 70s, because punk sort of
came out of art schools, shaping British pop. Whether it was the
fashions they wore or the clever use of lyrics, all the different
aspects that made British pop pop, if you think about The Who, it's
unthinkable without thinking of Pop Art. So that's always been an
interest of mine, so when I worked here, I wanted to link, do
exhibitions - because I was originally the curator, I was the director
of the gallery - do exhibitions that had a pop or rock element in them.
That's what I've done, loads and loads of projects from the very early
days right through to more recent things. The highlights would be
something like Live From The Vinyl Junkyard, a series of commissions we
did, really looking at the death of vinyl. We were told vinyl was dead
because CDs were coming in, and within a couple of years that seemed to
be true, nobody seemed to be being vinyl and CDs were everywhere.
Digital culture, remix culture was coming in, and the whole way records
were produced was changing. I knew that most of the artists I knew
still liked to listen to vinyl, so I devised this thing called Live
From The Vinyl Junkyard. We put it out as a commission opportunity and
artists applied to do projects which would be gallery or performance
based, bringing together those two things. The most famous of those
would be Jeremy Deller's Acid Brass, which was 1997, and that was
absolute genius - to find the best brass band in the world, which was
based in Stockport, called the Williams Fairey. To basically score
house music for brass band, an interpretation. They did a night of Acid
House Anthems, which we actually promoted at LIPA [Liverpool Institute
of Performing Arts] because our venue was too small, and it was just
brilliant, it worked.
Was the thinking behind that about connecting contemporary working
class culture with a more established one, or...?
Yeah,
his view was that both brass band music and house music had origins in
working class movements. Now I'm not entirely sure that's correct in
terms of house music, but certainly a lot of people going to raves, it
would be like Northern Soul in a sense. This escape that you just lost
yourself in this transcendental music with the aid of a few drugs, and
it was very big in places like Manchester and Liverpool. It was big
everywhere, actually, but I think Jeremy slightly romanticised this
idea of it being from the North. But it's a lovely idea and it did work
as a concept, and the music is great. That led to other things. I knew
Bill Drummond from art school, because Bill was in the same year as me
at Liverpool art school. He dropped out after I think a year, to do his
own thing. We kept in touch and one of his big hits was What Time Is
Love? by The KLF, and that was one of the ones that Williams Fairey
re-did as a brass band piece. And then, through that, Jeremy got to
know Bill and they worked together on a further extension of that, it
was called Fuck The Millenium, obviously in 2000. He remixed the remix
of his original song, so it was great. I liked that. The original
commission was the second part of the Vinyl Junkyard project, which was
called Mixing It. It was very much about mixing music cultures.
Jeremy's Acid Brass absolutely fitted the bill and it's an enduring
piece, people still talk about that. But there was loads, like ten
commissions on those two projects.
MUSIC: THE WILLIAMS FAIREY BRASS BAND - WHAT TIME IS LOVE?
What can Liverpool offer to artists that other cities can’t?
Liverpool's
always been a good place to work, in terms of- very conducive, I
mentioned before what I was attracted to was just visually and socially
it's a very stimulating city which I think is good for artists. Like
many of the Northern post-industrial cities, it has good places that
you can, if you're an artist group, you can set up really easily. I
think Liverpool's been very good at that, although there's probably
livelier scenes in other places, I would think. But certainly there
have been moments were really interesting work was coming out of the
studios. I'm thinking more in the 90s, early 90s particularly, when
there were groups like Liverpool Artists Workshop up on Hope Street,
The Bridewell, Arena was just getting going. There seemed to be a group
of artists hitting on something really current, when you'd read all the
art mags it was like, that's what these artists were doing.
Who were these artists?
Well,
people like Pete Clarke who is still in this building, Dave Campbell
who went on to form Common Culture, Paul Rooney was part of that scene,
David Jacques who's still around doing stuff, Janet Hodgson was in
Liverpool at that time doing really interesting work. As I say you'd
open the art magazines and you can relate the discourse around
contemporary art - re-using media images, quite a lot of what would
become socially engaged practice, making work that aligned itself with
particular struggles, whether it was feminism or black issues, and so
on. There was that moment when it was very strong. I curated a series
of three shows, because there was that much interesting work out, I
couldn't do it in one show. Of course the gallery was a lot smaller
then, probably about half the size it is now. So I did three shows
called A Pool of Signs. I didn't really have to theorise too much about
it, because I thought that would probably have put a lot of people off.
The work was just very interesting and there was an immediacy around a
lot of the work, a lot of media imagery, images from television or
newspapers. This is pre-internet, pre-digital. But it was the
beginnings of that media culture that was starting to dominate our
lives, and ideas around simulacra and so on. These artists, I wouldn't
say they were a cohesive group, far from it. But they were just at that
moment, this is what a regional... what Glasgow's been good at, a good
regional body of artists that are getting out there and doing things,
the galleries are supporting them. And I suppose one of the problems
with Liverpool is, where do you go next? It has been a bit of an issue
- in Glasgow they seem to have a very good way of winning the Turner
prize! Glasgow artists seem to be able to transcend the local, showing
in international biennials and things like that. There are some
Liverpool artists that are able to do that, really good artists like
Imogen Stidworthy and Leo Fitzmaurice in the city now, and a very
interesting younger generation coming through as well. But I think
there have been times when, I'm not saying the ambition wasn't there,
but I just think artists could have done better at being... they need
to get out there more. The Bluecoat can only go so far. I've had this
conversation with several artists - they say, well, I've done my one
person show at Bluecoat, where do I go next? And you can't keep coming
back to do the same show, so I think that is perhaps one of the
things... it doesn't necessarily mean you'll go on to do something else
somewhere else. And maybe that doesn't matter, maybe to artists, that's
fine for them. I did feel that nobody out the city was looking in to
see what interesting work was going on. That drain to London has always
been a problem but I hope we've stemmed that. London is so expensive
now to live, let alone work as an artist. Renting a studio, its very
expensive. I'm encouraged to see there's been a lot more studio groups.
They come and go, you know, they don't always last very long but that
doesn't matter. It's great to see things happening on the Wirral and St
Helens, places that aren't the centre. I think we'll see more of that,
that's how I see it changing over the years. Just look at what's
happening in Birkenhead or New Brighton. It's encouraging. Whether that
can be maintained, eventually everything becomes gentrified and artists
get moved on.
We’ve touched on this a little bit, but what have been the biggest
changes you’ve seen in Liverpool’s art scene over the years?
I
think a lot has changed in the time I've been here, which is a long
period, just in terms of the galleries that we have. When I first came,
there was the Bluecoat, and that was it. There was the Walker but not
much in terms of an independent art gallery scene. What has been
brilliant to see, obviously the Tate had a huge role in this. The Tate
arriving gave credibility that Liverpool could be a place other
galleries could start up. The Open Eye was already open, I think since
70s, really good photography gallery, still going down by the docks.
Since then, actually I think FACT did start as an organisation before
Tate. But they didn't become a gallery until after Tate opened. But the
main thing was the Biennial, that was a huge endorsement in a sense. It
was also down to James Moores philanthropy, he put the money up for the
first few Biennials. But I think without the Tate being here that would
have been more difficult, so I think they had a huge impact on
Liverpool being taken seriously as an arts city. I think back, the bit
that is maybe lacking in that ecology is possibly the ability to retain
good students, graduates. There's been some really great studio groups
over the years and still are, but perhaps where we're missing out a bit
is that there's not, the Tate hasn't stimulated that so much. Studio
groups have numerically probably grown over the years but I don't know.
People say we've got the most galleries outside London, I'm not sure
that's correct, perhaps somebody needs to do the maths and work it out.
We've certainly got a lot, and that's good. But I think the point we
were talking before, where do you go after you've done a show at
Bluecoat or FACT or whatever? It is that next stage, it would be great
to see more spaces here. We haven't got a commercial space. That's a
real shame, but that's probably endemic in terms of British provinces.
Very few cities, even Manchester can support a good contemporary
gallery. It all gets filtered through London I think. That's a shame.
Maybe there isn't a market, people just aren't interested in buying
this stuff.
That implies that... you trained as an
artist, and ended up working in a more organisational capacity as a
curator, do you think if you'd pursued an art career rather than a
curatorial career that you wouldn't have been able to spend all that
time in Liverpool, you'd have had to go elsewhere?
If
I wanted a career, probably! I'd probably have done what most people
did in those days which was get some part-time teaching. Which you
could then, I think those positions have pretty much dried up. There's
not many now. But it was relatively easy to get some part-time teaching
at a regional art school, on foundation or even on degree, and maintain
your practice. But if I wanted to be successful I would have probably
had to move. It's like music - before punk happened, you went to London
to be successful. That's what I loved about punk - it de-centred the
music industry. The Specials came out of Coventry, and Factory Records
in Manchester, what was coming out of the Eric's scene in terms of
local labels here, but I don't think it's ever really happened in art.
The art has always been focused on London. As I say, Glasgow now is a
rival, but it's certainly got credentials, and Liverpool has in terms
of its galleries but I don't know if it does in terms of an art
community. But going back to your question about what the Bluecoat's
role is, how has it changed, I mean, it is fascinating. It's a unique
place and I don't say that just because I work here. It is the oldest
arts centre, and the research that I did for this book covered some
very interesting things. Why was that? What was the motivation? It was
a very small, bourgeois, middle-class group of arts enthusiasts that
set it up, that happened to have some very interesting individual
artists, like Roderick Bisson or Herbert Tyson Smith, in the 30s and
40s and even earlier than that. It was that enthusiasm, that we should
do this for ourselves, and if the rest of Liverpool want to come,
that's fine, but we're just going to crack on and do it. It's strength
in those days and to a degree now, though we do less of it, is that
multidisciplinary aspect. So from the beginning the Sandon Studios, the
group that set up Bluecoat as an arts centre, was mainly visual arts
but they do theatre, music, a very strong music group, they did all the
different art forms and I think when it become formally an arts centre
that continued and in the 60s was revived by people like Wendy Harp and
more arts council funding that came in the 70s onwards meant we could
do dance programmes, music programmes, literature programmes,
literature has always been important, poetry in particular. I think it
does still hold that position even though you don't see much music here
and you don't see much live art. We were very strong on that in
previous years. When you look at, FACT comes along and then the
Biennial comes on, they're visual arts. I know they both do different
things, FACT with a more digital work and now moving image work, and
the Open Eye being photography, but they're still visual arts. Whereas
here we can be a bit more fleet of foot, and we can go into
contemporary dance, music events, some literature that links into the
visual arts programme. So I suppose that's our continuing strength,
that inter-disciplinarity, even though it goes up and down. Sometimes
we're more inter-disciplinary that perhaps we'd like to be. But what
else marks us out and makes us interesting for artists to work with us,
is what I said before about symbolically, we are the oldest building in
Liverpool City Centre. We carry that history of the Colonial past,
which we try to interrogate, so that sense of place is very important.
We couldn't be somewhere else. You could take Bluecoat and build it
somewhere else, it wouldn't be the same. Because it is located where it
is, between Liverpool One, this new super-commercial development and
the old retail heart of Liverpool, it has that strange position. In
terms of audience, which is really important to all of this, we're not
a backwater. We'll get people just wandering in who've never been to a
gallery before. I think it's something, one of our strengths, over the
years. You'll know because you worked here before. We've tried to
engage audiences in the way you interpret the exhibitions, the way we
welcome people, all that sort of stuff. We do get, not patting
ourselves on the back here, but we do get a lot of plaudits for that
from people coming in for the first time - they really get it. For a
contemporary arts centre, that's quite rewarding. I know that's the
direction of travel for the arts council, it's all about being
accessible and inclusive. But it doesn't always work in practice. You
stumble upon things here. In the 70s it was much more ad hoc, anything
could go on. Things where you thought - what's that doing in an arts
centre? Yoga classes or weight watchers or comics fairs, or record
fairs.
What's that quote, the village hall...?
It's
a quote from Hans van der Heijden, who's the architect who did the big
development here in 2008. He said, where the village hall meets the
avant-garde. I still think that's a pretty good description, although
I'm not sure what it is to be avant-garde anymore. We could have a
debate about that, couldn't we!
You could definitely argue Bluecoat has its roots in the original
avant-garde...
Yeah,
well it has. It's a brilliant history, and quite - I wouldn't say it
was planned. Yoko Ono performing here in 67, you don't plan that, it
was just a guy who was teaching at the art school had seen her that
Summer in London and said she's great, I want to bring her to
Liverpool, and approached the Bluecoat and asked to rent the space. So
I don't know why it was full, there was like, 400 people in our
upstairs space coming to see a Fluxus performance, and enjoying it and
laughing. Interestingly, if you read, she did an interview with the
Daily Post or the Echo the day afterwards and they said how did it go?
And she said well, the audience were great, they went along and totally
enjoyed it. In a way that I wouldn't get in London where it was seen as
more reverential, you didn't laugh at this stuff, it was deeply
serious. But her smashing up a jug with a hammer and handing out bits
of the ceramics and saying, come back in twenty years and we'll remake
the jug, people laughed at it. It's funny, it was. Getting people to
jump off ladders and pretend they could fly, simulating sex inside a
big bag, they were funny things and the audience was having a great
time. She thought it was good, she loved that. She's always had that
appreciation of the city. Obviously John Lennon helped by talking about
the city! But she's always been a friend of the Bluecoat and we're
really grateful for her support over the years, great that she came
back in 2008 and did another performance and we showed her work then.
MUSIC: YOKO OKO & PEACHES - KISS KISS KISS
With
your very prolonged engagement with artists and cultural scenes in
Liverpool, and also the very multi-disciplinary approach of the
Bluecoat, that gives you a very bird's eye view over a lot of
creativity happening in the region. Is there anything specific - I know
painting is having a lot of enthusiasm for it in Liverpool at the
moment - but is there anything specific you think Liverpool has always
done very well, or something about the geographical or
psycho-geographical layout of the city means that Liverpool is very
good at producing any thing in particular?
Yeah...
I would say, in terms of events that have happened at Bluecoat, where
we've been able to capture that inter-disciplinary spark, coming from
local artists, that's the distinctive thing. Something like Visual
Stress, a really brilliant, very loose, anarchic group of artists and
activists and all sorts of people. They did a few projects with us from
the 80s onwards. Surely there were these anarchic performance groups
out there but what was important about them was they had the sense of
history that I talked about before, and particularly the colonial
history. Keith Higgins, or Kif has he was known, who unfortunately died
a few years ago, he was the mainstay of it. He'd come out of, his
father ran the Caribbean centre and he used to run a group called
Delado, an African dance and drumming group. He teamed up with a
performance artist, an artist called Jonathan Swain, who was coming
more from a situationist perspective. They put together this
anti-colonial, post-colonial discourse with something a bit more
spectacular and these performances, the first one they did here was
called Death By Free Enterprise, which was quite a provocative title.
It was to cleanse the Bluecoat of the taint of slavery, that's how they
described it. Keith Piper had shown here before, we were aware of
artists that were interrogating that history, decolonisation if you
like. But they did it in a really imaginative way, which couldn't
happen anywhere else, I don't think. They did things which we couldn't
do now for health and safety reasons, they climbed all over the
building, they had rock-climbers abseiling down the building. They had
fireworks, they had a fake police car with sirens... things you can't
really do! But it was really powerful. It was the week the Tate opened
with, I think, quite a limp performance at the Tate, called something
like The Invention Of Tradition with Gavin Bryars. It wasn't that
interesting, but this was real, it was a group that had come from
Rastafarianism, situationism, anarchism, and there were fashion people
there, a punk band, mixing it all up. That melange, I think we can do
that quite well in Liverpool. It might be a bit chaotic.
Is that the one we had video of? Is that video still online?
Yes.
It was extraordinary, and on hardly any money. We didn't know what they
were doing, we had no idea they were going to climb all over the
building. We couldn't do those sorts of things now. But that spirit of,
let's do something within a framework, but then we change the things
that happen within it. So you think it's going to be a performance, and
that'll be interesting, but it becomes much more of a political act.
Groups like Visual Stress, Asian Voices Asian Lives, which are defunct
but they did some really interesting work about British Asian Identity.
Then you look at all the discourse happening now around Windrush and
migration, immigration, you think - these groups were doing this in the
80s! I'd like to see more, it'd be great if that kind of collective
work emerged again. Maybe it will, maybe I don't know about it, but I
don't see it at the moment. But if you asked me what would be
distinctively Liverpool that nobody else was producing, I'd say the
space to allow that stuff to happen. We could talk about some really
good painting going on at the moment, and that's not just now, it's
people like Pete Clarke and others in that show who have been doing it
for a long time. Painting has always been a strength.
On the subject of painting actually, I wanted to ask you about the
Captain Beefheart exhibition at the Bluecoat.
Well,
one of the things I discovered not long after I started here was that
Captain Beefheart, the great American musician and total artist,
because he painted as well, and wrote, and did all sorts of things. He
had an exhibition here, and I think it was his first ever exhibition in
1972, so he was quite young, and he was known as then just a musician.
But he'd been on The Old Grey Whistle Test, which was a popular music
show on BBC, and it had some of his paintings in the studio. He said,
I'd love to show these in England, and the director at the time, Lucy
Cullen, she phoned up and said - well, we've got a gallery, you're
coming to Liverpool on your next tour, we'll do a show. That's how it
came about. He did the paintings reportedly the night before, or a
couple of nights before, in a hotel in London, with just black paint.
Someone said, what's your technique? And he said, it's like swishing an
asses tail! That's what it was, it was these gestural, swishing black
paint on the canvas. I didn't see the show, I came to Liverpool a bit
later that year, but the fact that he'd exhibited here was always
something, I thought, what a great thing. His first ever exhibition. In
2017 I worked with a guy called Chris McCabe, a Liverpool poet, and a
few other people, a guy called Kyle Percy, and we put together a whole
Beefheart weekend where we celebrated 45 years since he'd exhibited
here. We did a conference and a gig at District and a walking tour of
psychedelic Liverpool, loads of things, it was great. So that again
added to that aura of this being a venue that is about interaction
between art and pop. So Beefheart, big fan. He's part of the Bluecoat
history.
MUSIC: CAPTAIN BEEFHEART - PARTY OF SPECIAL THINGS TO DO
You
mentioned quite early in the interview that you initially trained as an
artist before finding yourself in this role, do you still make art?
Yep,
I still make art, I trained as a fine artist and when you've got a
full-time job working in the arts its really hard to find time to do
your own thing. So a few years ago I decided, I'm going to start doing
drawings every day. I'm now in my tenth year, so by the end of this
year, I'll have 3,652 drawings. Because there's two leap years. Yeah,
if anybody wants to show that many drawings, I've got them all in
shoeboxes at home. But I do them every day and I put them on Instagram,
some of them.
What's the address?
It's
called @ink_and_spit because that's what I use to make the drawings. I
don't use much spit anymore. I use ink all the time. It's a good way,
people say if you practice something every day for so many years you
get really good at it. And I think I've got a lot better at it, I was
always quite adept but I think i've learned new ways of picturing the
world. Some of them are quite disturbing, because we live in a
disturbing world. A lot of them are about Covid, Brexit, Trump, all
that stuff, but not so much in a literal sense. More the general angst,
the existential angst we all feel with the climate crisis and so on. I
wouldn't say they're completely bleak, there's some optimism in there,
but they are quite dark.
There's a bleak humour, I would say! You also have a fairly active
side-hustle as a DJ?
Well
I don't do so much, I've never trained so I don't claim to be any good.
But I do have a very good record collection, a very eclectic one, it's
all vinyl, and I just do it for friends basically, the odd gig now and
again, mixing in anything really. I'm just totally obsessed with really
great 45s in particular - going back to even early jazz stuff. But
mostly it's 50s rock'n'roll, blues, dirty r'n'b stuff, then going
through the whole gamut of the 60s and then into ska, rocksteady,
through to two-tone and in between all the soul music and r'n'b and
lots of reggae and house music. Anything you like! I'm just amazed
there's so much good stuff out there, still coming out, good remixes
happening, and you can get it on vinyl. So I'm out there, if anyone
wants a gig!
We'll end the episode with a few of your
choice floor-fillers but in the meantime thank you very much for
joining us to chat today.
It's been a
pleasure, Michael!
So
before we play you out with a few of er, Bryan’s bangers, I wanted to
let you know about the all new OUTPUT radio show on
melodicdistraction.com - it is broadcast on the first Sunday of every
month, so just one episode has gone out, and you can re-listen to that
on melodicdistraction.com or our website outputgallery.com. It's a
music focused, hour long show, exploring the area between art and
music. The first episode features various bands whose members have
exhibited at output alongside tracks selected by artists and myself,
and we’ve got some really exciting plans for the coming months. So
thank you to Bryan for chatting with us today, if you head to the
bluecoats website thebluecoat.org.uk and into the section called
LIBRARY, you can search the library for any of the projects you’ve
heard us talk about today, things like Visual Stress, Yoko Ono, Acid
Brass, and bring up some really interesting related content from their
archive. Thanks to our supporters Bluecoat and FACT, and thank YOU for
listening,. But how best to show our thanks? How about 20% off at the
Kazimier Gardens bar? Just use the code RIBBIT RIBBIT, like a frog
says, in tribute to the wonderful big sad hungover frog sculpture made
by Ellie Hoskins that is currently sitting in the gallery as I record
this. Just a really existentially terrified looking frog. If you’ve not
seen it please look at it on the website. RIBBIT RIBBIT for 20% off at
the Kazimier Gardens. Cheers, bye!
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