I've posted before about my aversion to ‘go-fund-me’s in the past, but one in particular, promising magical tales of a plutonium factory, badgers and the ghost of Billie Holiday all wrapped into one artfully designed package was the exception, so of course I was eager to find out more. This autobiographical conglomeration of short stories is Will Carruthers' inventively assembled and aptly titled, “Book of Jobs" ...not to be confused with a book of his jobs, or The Book of Job, but better I let Will explain...






                                                       Photo credit: Eggert Johannesson

Stuart Luke Gatherer is one of Scotland’s most sought after contemporary artists. With sold out shows from London to New York, this ambitious figurative painter transcends his classical background with an intriguing approach that bridges the old with the new. Evocative of Caravaggio and Rembrandt, his compositions are cryptic and arcane, the technique spotless. The figures in them appear quintessentially young and affluent, maybe even a little reckless; but perhaps what I enjoy most about Stuart’s work is his ‘all is not as it seems’ approach. Look very carefully at these paintings and you will discover some important missing pieces, which he has intentionally left to the viewer to disentangle; but don’t try too hard, as I suspect some of the elements are strategically absent to retain ambiguity. Look closer still, however, and you will correctly identify the artist himself, who like Hitchcock, chooses to make random appearances.


I first discovered Stuart’s work at his New York exhibition in 2004, and have been a fan of his ironic satirical humour ever since, as has his long list of high-profile collectors, including Billy Connolly, Dame Judi Dench, and Michelle Pfeiffer, among others. Stuart’s works can currently be seen at London’s Albemarle Gallery, a long-time personal favourite, also featuring the work of artists Ian Cumberland, Vittorio Gui, and my friend Philip Munoz.

As a figurative painter, it was a pleasure for me to get the chance to chat with Stuart over the holidays, about his life and art. Whilst I was hoping the exchange would demystify his work and process, I’ve decided some things are best left as they are – inscrutable and thought-provoking. Stuart was once asked that question every artist eventually encounters, “What would you do if not an artist?” to which he replied with the only answer any artist worth his or her salt should, “I cannot even think of it.”

GH: When I first discovered your work, probably 10 years ago, one of the things that struck me most was the element of surprise at play in some of your works, as a means of triggering viewer response. They’re very engaging in an almost filmic way; you ask yourself, who are these people and what has just happened here? An obvious narrative subtext runs throughout many of the compositions. What sort of response are you hoping to elicit from the viewer?


SLG: I don’t want my work to be merely literal or illustrative. What I am trying to avoid is a sort of Victorian didactic art; a moralising narrative or an improving picture. There has to be something more; something that only the unique physical handling of paint can achieve. The idea that the poetry is in the image sublimates the physical act of painting to rendering. Art is not technique. I believe painting is a tightrope between what you want the image to say and what you want the paintwork to say, and believe the best paintings to be execution and inspiration in perfect equilibrium.


As I get older my aesthetic vision has changed whereby I wouldn’t be interested in a subject that photography could do better. Although I couldn’t go as far as pure painting, whereby the viewer judges the painting on the quality of design (colour, line and form) rather than on the quality of the illusory deception and the message held there in. For me the greatest drawback of abstract painting comes from the fact that it can only elicit one type of response; an aesthetic one. A figurative painting can engage with the viewer on so many different levels, whether it be perceptions, emotions, memories, dreams, nightmares etc. It is this multi-layered connection that fascinates me about painting the human condition. What I look for in a situation is ambiguity with a slight touch of surreality; one that will not automatically come to a logical conclusion. I think my best work has always had a portentous air. The division between the imitative and the suggestive creates a strangeness for the viewer to complete; nothing is obvious, nothing is clear cut. Something is left hanging in the air.



GH: There is a beautiful use of chiaroscuro and a bit of an almost “homage” to some of the Old Masters implicit throughout some of your paintings. Is there any particular artist from the past who most inspired you?


SLG: The artists who most inspired me at a formative time were the baroque masters; namely Rubens, Rembrandt and Caravaggio. I suppose it was Rubens’s wonderful movement and Caravaggio’s lighting. But as a painter concerned with the human condition, the greatest influence on my work has been Rembrandt, who is, in my opinion, the greatest painter of what it is to be human. Degas is an artist and draughtsman I greatly admire and Edward Hopper, with his vision of surreal isolation, is someone I will always return to. But in reality there are just too many artists alive and dead to mention. The trick is to keep on looking.



GH: How do you go about designing your compositions, and are the scenes painted from photographs, or do you use live models? Like Hitchcock, it seems you make random appearances in your paintings now and then; am I correct?


SLG: Once I have an idea for a subject I jot down several thumbnail sketches. From these I create more sketches in which I work out the details for tone, colour, lighting and models, and then I sketch one final “pose” drawing. At this point I organise models to come and sit for drawings and photographs. I do it this way round as the chosen model has to fit my compositional drawing with regards to height, gender, colouring etc. I will “direct” the models when it comes to the mood and style of the painting, for example; sinister, mournful, ambivalent etc. I don’t consider myself a portrait painter, so it is not the case of “he looks good, I’ll design a painting around him” - the composition comes first.


After transferring the design to canvas or panel the photographs will only be used in the initial stages for notes on drawing, light and shade etc. After this the drawings and photos are discarded and the painting takes on a life of its own. What matters is the aesthetic of the painting rather than faithful photographic likeness of a particular model. Like Hitchcock, I do make random appearances in my work, and this is occasionally due to a late addition to the composition. I, like many artists, paint self-portraits to experiment with certain aspects of technique and style. I am convenient; that is all.



GH: There is a polarity in many of your compositions, groups of people ironically bonded together logistically, yet isolated from one another. I notice also humour and possibly even an element of absurdity. It’s hard for me to link your work to a studio setting, as there appears to be a real exchange between yourself and the world around you – the presentation of someone who constantly observes. Where do you find your ideas, and what compels you?

Mineral mining in the Congo is mainly controlled by one of a number of armed groups operating in eastern DRC, the rebel Democratic Forces for the Liberation of Rwanda, a vestige of the perpetrators of the Rwandan genocide of 1994, a group that is on the US State Department’s list of terrorist organizations. Two other groups, the M23 and Mai Mai also battle for control of the country’s abundant natural resources.

McCabe visited Congo in 2008 as a photojournalist covering an uprising led by warlord, Laurent Nkunda. Looking beyond the war-torn region he was immediately taken by the beauty of the land that lies at the base of a smoldering volcano, and the amazing strength and resiliency of the Congolese people, so much so that for the past 3 years he and his team have infiltrated these battle zones, at times risking their lives to research, document, and film this region for their documentary.

“This Is Congo” transports you directly into the remote mountains of Eastern Congo, where you will meet these miners and war victims and discover how conflict minerals are smuggled out of the country and illegally sold on the international market to foreign buyers, from where they are refined and processed into consumer products. Offering multiple perspectives from both the aggressors and victims, the documentary takes you into the lives of these people, circumventing the media blackouts that keep us in the dark, and uncovering not only the truth about what is really happening in Congo, but also who the key players and organizations are that are engaged with helping these victims, including groups such as “Doctors Without Borders” and “Eastern Congo Initiative (ECI).” 

This fascinating film, due to be released later this fall, describes the actions that need to be taken to overcome these challenges, including government reform, rebuilding of the country’s infrastructure, and demilitarization of the mining industry. It also exposes the sad reality of the relationship between the products most of us use daily, and the human cost involved. 

 
I realize it is not feasible to remedy every injustice in the world, but if we keep mindful of the fact that many people giving whatever they are able, even in small amounts, can and will make a difference in the lives of many. Below are links where you can help support the efforts of these humanitarian filmmakers and where you can donate to ECI and Doctors Without Borders.  I urge you to give whatever you can and spread the word on social media. Daniel has told me that “every drop counts.” 

The next time you convince yourself war is good for business, consider if that is true, then Africa should have the world’s best economy.  

                   
                           

RELATED

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Below are some links provided by Daniel for more about this subject:

Artist, arts educator, writer, poet, and self-proclaimed romanticist, UK artist Dean Melbourne is each of these things.

GH:  I hear bits of Foo Fighters, Kings of Leon, maybe even Blur or a melodic Beatles vibe in your songs. Who were your influences?

John: We all have our own individual influences ranging from Jake's love of Britpop to Jesse's metal, Andy's Indie rock to myself and Dan's love of soul music. We all like a bit of each other’s genres and other bits thrown together which gives us the sound we all love and hear and represent as IC1s. I've often said we are like the Sex Pistols covering a Beatles song sung by Kurt Cobain. What's not to like about that?!

GH: So you guys won Best International Act & Best Rock Act last year on the Online Music Awards. What was that like and how has it changed things for you?

Andy: Yeah we won Best International Act and Best Rock Act at The Online Music Awards last year. Everyone likes winning stuff right?

As an Arsenal football fan this means a great deal to me. Coming close then narrowly failing has been drilled into me from a young age. Having said that though, Dan and John support Tottenham meaning they know even less about winning.

Jacob has changed teams recently to Manchester City who have bought their success and Jesse supports his local village team, Watford. No... Don't worry... I hadn't heard of them either. But seriously it's great being acknowledged but it hasn't really changed anything. We're still doing what we are doing and maybe next time it will be an even bigger award. Erm... Did someone just say GRAMMY?!

GH: The proceeds from your song, “Karma” you dedicated to charity. Can you tell me a little about that?

Jesse: We decided to give it all to UK homelessness charity Shelter, who I actually used to work with in my charity days. I know they do good things with the money and we'd only spend it on cigarettes and alcohol so it made sense. It's harsh walking passed someone in the freezing cold in London so when we have a chance to help, we do.

 

Industry Quotes

"If you go and see a new band, see IC1s, they’re brilliant and post-everything" - Alan McGee (Creation Records)
"A proper, no messing about, rock and roll band" - Mark Beaumont (NME)
"Highly exciting to watch and thought provoking to listen to –. A must see for anyone who wants a real rock and roll band with attitude and ability" - Gary Powell (The Libertines)
"They're a little bit Libertines, a little bit Ramones - but they're certainly 100% London" - Pete Donaldson (XFM)

Official Website: ic1sband.com

Soundcloud: http://www.soundcloud.com/ic1s
YouTube: http://www.youtube.com/ic1s
Facebook: http://www.facebook.com/ic1sband
Bandcamp: http://ic1s.bandcamp.com

Back in early June I received a note from an ambitious undergrad filmmaker from The University of South Carolina. It said, simply:

“As someone who loves film noir, I appreciate what you’re doing; I made a film noir myself, and maybe you’d appreciate what I’m doing.”


The message was followed by a series of Vimeo film shorts that convinced me he not only has passion for the art of film, but also the talent and intention to back it up. As an avid supporter of the Palm Springs International Film Society’s outreach programs, and because I believe we desperately need more funding allocated toward the development of the arts in our schools, I welcome the opportunity to share with you the unique perspective of one young filmmaker who has managed to beat the odds by grabbing the attention of a Hollywood cinematographer and film crew for his first feature film effort.

His name is Chris Tevebaugh; the film is “Honor The Father,” and what follows is my conversation with him about what it’s like to succeed as a filmmaker when you’re 2500 miles from Hollywood…

GH: Chris, what first got you interested in film? Were there any particular directors, filmmakers, or films that inspired you?

CT: I love films, but architecture is the seed that got me into films.

The limitation of architecture is that a building cannot be experienced in a photograph because the experience of the location cannot be replicated. Furthermore, architecture cannot influence culture the way films do since it cannot be absorbed on a massive scale. That is why I turned to films.

From the perspective of architecture, what is the perfect way to experience a building? Say a single room in a house is never used; did you get the full effect? What time of day and what season should one explore this particular museum? What is the truest way to enter an airport, the front door or the jet way? These questions facilitate audience participation. By that, I mean that no singular experience is correct. The definitive experience is one part the art itself and one part how the audience adds themselves into its absorption. It is only through active participation, through this absorption, that architecture fulfills its value.

When it comes to facilitating a message through a film, I never want to tell my audience exactly what to think or feel. Instead, I want to create a situation whereas my audience can conceivably see my world. Just like in architecture, some of the audience’s experience should be left for them to fill themselves. This is their participation. I don’t want to indoctrinate, but instead facilitate emotions and provoke thought. The audience must arrive at their own conclusions.

I take my movie influences from Werner Herzog, Darren Aronofsky, and Lars von Trier.

GH: You’ve told me you are currently working on a half narrative/half musical with what sounds like a Hollywood team behind you. Can you tell me a little bit about this production?

CT: Yes, my film is called Honor the Father, a period musical piece. The movie will be submitted to film festivals all over the world throughout 2014. The short follows Roman Cyprus through his consciousness as he relives the brightest and darkest days of his life. Set in 1937 and 1956. He's split with the guilt of murdering his wife and the self perceived righteousness of doing so. What is the true health of his soul and how he will manage to live with his mistakes?

Every time I start pre-production on my films, I compile a dozen or so dream crew members and usually get three or four. Not this time. My film has the full dream crew filling out every position. We even managed to snag LA cinematographer Pierce Cook! In order to make this film, everyone had to make sacrifices. But the story’s power has draw people everywhere who are jumping at the opportunity. Today, I'm picking up new crew members on a weekly basis. Just last week, a visual effects artist from AMC asked to do the credits for our movie. Hell yes you may!


The story itself had been conceived as a piece analyzing sex inequality, dogmatic beliefs, guilt and honesty. We have already recorded brilliant music for our musical numbers and The Fire Tonight is scoring the film. Everything is phenomenal; however, to make this happen we need a little more in our budget. We are launching a Kickstarter fundraising campaign in mid August to give us the money we need. Check out the link to our Facebook page to be kept in the loop on that and SoundCloud to hear the beginning part of our film’s story.

GH: How would you describe the film scene in South Carolina, and do you feel it’s more challenging for a young filmmaker to get noticed there than it would be perhaps for someone living in LA or New York?

CT: The film scene here leaves some to be desired. It’s difficult to get gear, crew, sets, specialty items, but it’s not difficult to get noticed. Out here, just the mention of a diaphragm will get you noticed. The movie I’m currently working on has a diaphragm in the plot. The movie itself has little to do with the issues of contraception, but people worry that it’s even discussed. One person told me that nobody wants to see a movie with a dildo in it. Ignorant social stigma is the most difficult part of not working in a place like LA, but I enjoy the challenge. That's what art is all about.

GH: As an artist, I’ve had the opportunity to communicate with many fellow artists, some famous, some just starting out, about the “creative process,” from brilliance to writer’s block. Can you describe your frame of mind when you come up with the ideas for your films, and do you create better in a solitary environment or draw more inspiration from group efforts?

CT: Writer’s block is the mind failing at finding a solution to a particular question. When a solution emerges, it’s not the result of some creative magic, but rather of bad ideas forcing good ones to surface. One shouldn’t expect to solve any given problem outright. Just pull thoughts out of your brain, and then critique them against the problem at hand. When critiqued, even bad ideas can become the road map to success. I submit that writer’s block is a self imposed phenomenon conjured up by unrealistic expectations of the creative process.

GH: It has been claimed filmmakers in America lag behind other countries in terms of documentary filmmaking, because of the availability of government subsidies for the arts available in other countries. Do you consider yourself to be a documentary filmmaker (I’m referring to your short “Runaway Runway”), and do you feel American culture places enough emphasis on the arts in general?

CT: I love documentaries, but conceptually I don't make "documentaries". I treat every story like a narrative, even Runaway Runway.

Runaway Runway: The Flower the Squid and the Apology from Christopher Tevebaugh on Vimeo.





Art only works when you tell the story that exists in your heart at the time of its creation. During the Runaway Runway documentary, I had just ruined an important friendship in my personal life. With that mistake, the story I had been following about a recycling fashion show became a metaphor. How could someone who recently deemed himself garbage find personal value again? I believed that this approach would personally connect an audience to a subject that is otherwise tired and overdone in the world of documentaries. Not telling the story in my heart would have added Runaway Runway to the list of “documentaries” about recycling that has no chance to impact an audience.



America does lag behind as far as funding goes, but no country has enough funding. I try to think about it from an investor’s perspective. One hundred people want my entire small sum of money. I can’t just give my money away to anyone because there is a good chance I’ll get a “documentary” and not a real story and how bad that would be if one of those hundred people had a real story within them.

Governments care overly protective of these budgets and then they receive crap, European documentaries tend to tell their stories more like narrative and they’re better for it. If we in America produce better movies and art with real heart we may find ourselves with accesses to more funding. With regards to my upcoming film, "Honor the Father", the same passion that drove me in Runaway Runway will be essential. I'm telling the story of Roman putting his soul on trial after destroying his family.

GH: Your short “Sazerac” was really clever. You captured the elements of film noir amazingly well and on such a small budget! One of my favorite films is Hitchcock’s adapted play, “Rope,” shot on a single set and with next to no editing. In these days of blockbuster films, phenomenal special effects, and limitless funds, is it still possible to create a great film on a small budget, and what differentiates a good from a great film?

(Film Noir) Sazerac from Christopher Tevebaugh on Vimeo


CT: Sazerac is special to me because it was my first time as a director.  I wrote the script with my producer and camera man in about thirty minutes. It was shot and completed for under 100 dollars. The movie turned out solid, but I'm never content. I need to make much better things.



A great film can definitely be made on a small budget, but that depends on the film itself. To make a movie isn't to only make a story; it's to facilitate a story that already exists somewhere in the audience. What they all need is heart, because the difference between a good movie and a great movie is just that, heart. That’s what makes a movie become alive. Hoop Dreams (1994) is a great example of a movie that achieves this. It gives us a structure and we are guided to create our own personal meaning. The message of story is something we as the audience create ourselves. Audience participation is the seed of giving art life.

GH: What types of projects would you hope to see yourself working on in the next 10 years?

CT: I enjoy changing genres to challenge myself. I’ve had a dream project that I’ve been crafting based off an earlier work, Dr. Sphincter's Feast of Souls. In comedic fashion, the project chronicles the obsession of a evil doctor trying to reanimate corpses.



Feast of Souls (Horror) from Christopher Tevebaugh on Vimeo.





I want to make a horror comedy that can be enjoyed for what it is on the surface or if you want something more, for having heart below the surface. Also, I seek out projects that allow me to collaborate with new and exciting people. Anyone can email me if they have a pitch. ChrisTevebaugh@gmail.com

GH: Are there any dark horse films that might not be on everyone’s radar at the moment that you’d like to call our attention to?

CT: I could name you films all day, but that's such a safe thing to do. I'd rather take a risk and name a film that's not out yet. The film is called Warrior Road, a South Carolina based production that will hit the film festival circuits soon. It has an old school feel and could be perceived to be a bit risky in today’s fast paced market. The film is able to say a lot through space and acting rather than through dialogue. I have my eye on this one, look out for it.

GH: Most artists who share their creativity as a profession have specific audiences they hope to reach. What types of audiences, if any, are you creating your films for, and what is the most important impression you want people to come away with after viewing one of your films?

CT: For my new film, Honor the Father, I’m aiming to reach fellow filmmakers. A short film that travels the film festival circuit doesn't have much chance at affecting culture, but it can affect those filmmakers that, in turn, can affect culture in mass. I want those filmmakers to know that a story like Honor the Father, a story that has a strong message, isn't a scary thing to sell an audience. I'm tired of watered down scripts or movies that aren't pushed to their full potential because some guy in a suit thinks a ridiculous thought, like for instance, that a female lead won't sell.

Thanks, Chris best of luck to you! -- To learn more about this filmmaker check out the links above.

Most people who are familiar with my work and ramblings know I am a big fan of Portland artist, Hickory Mertsching. “Portland get out and support Hickory!” and “My friend Hickory is exhibiting at…” etc. etc., is a common theme in my artistic ranting, and not without reason.
I discovered his work last spring on the cover of the Dandy Warhols’ LP, “This Machine.” Great album (and you’re still cool Courtney… Sean Gordon Gothman, et al.), but the cover imagery containing an acoustic guitar, a hawk and deer antlers… at least I think they are; but being a city girl I won’t 100% commit here, and a reference to “Welcome To The Monkey House,” via a discarded beer can, brought to mind the ironic symbolism and skill of the Dutch Golden Age artists. The use of still lifes portraying man and nature always seems so egalitarian at first glance, but the more you study them the more you begin to understand; besides using an oil painting for an album cover is so ‘un-passe!’ At any rate, I immediately emailed the artist to let him know his painting reminded me of Mark Ryden meets Audubon, and somehow despite the awkwardly quirky comparison, a friendship was formed.
Hickory paints from life, both literally and figuratively. Juxtaposing the organic elements of nature –
rabbits, squirrels and other innocents, with rusty beer cans, discarded potato chip bags, and general refuge from our disposable, consumer-driven society, he makes a strong contemporary artistic statement; and yet the pieces are so splendidly and honestly rendered they would feel equally at home in your grandparents’ parlor (for those younger than Gen-X or Y it’s something old people used to hang out in), as they would in an L.A. hipster’s downtown loft…the art is that simultaneously disconcerting and comforting.