Luminous Decay

What was it like growing up in Essex?

My father had a small shop in the village of Writtle, selling animal foods and garden supplies. Gardening was my parents main interest, they had two acres, one half was garden, the other half a chicken run,(the eggs were sold in the shop), so I would play in the garden and on Galleywood Common, which was just up the road.

 When I was about ten I started getting art books and science fiction out of Chelmsford library. We didn't have a TV or record player, and the radio was only tuned to the news and 'The Archers', so I spent a lot of time reading and drawing, because there were no other distractions. 

You describe yourself as an artist of the fantastic and grotesque, I look at your work and I might describe it more succinctly as sublime, you are well versed on the tradition of the grotesque, have you researched and dismissed the sublime?

When I spoke to people about art I found that very few knew about the artists that I was interested in (Kubin for example). They only knew the modern story of art that begins with Cezanne and goes via Cubism to Abstraction and Minimalism.

So in 1997, when I was asked to give a talk about my work, I made a list of the artists that had influenced me, (most of these were pre 20th century), and found that they fitted into this alternative history of the fantastic and grotesque. I read some books on the theory of the grotesque by Wolfgang Kayser, Mikhail Bakhtin and Ewa Kuryluk.

I reused this potted guide to the grotesque when I wrote the introduction to the catalogue of my drawings at Chappel Galleries in 2005. You can read it on my website and the Chappel Galleries website.

That was how I came to describe myself as an artist of the fantastic and grotesque.... but in some ways this is misleading, because people think that the subjects of my work are fantastic and grotesque, but the subjects I draw are about reality, not fantasy. In the same way that Bruegel's 'Big Fish Eat Little Fish' is a fantastic and grotesque image, but is about reality, a universal principle which can be seen in something mundane like a corner shop put out of business by a supermarket.

(Even my pictures of mythological subjects are about reality)

I wrote about the methods employed by the grotesque, hybrid forms, changes of scale, distortion, etc, but I didn't write about the meanings or subject matter of my drawings.

All my work is about reality, things I see on the news, my own experiences, how I see life, but in order to say something about the world I have to distort it, using these methods of the grotesque and fantastic. 

For example, after trying to cycle round Hyde Park Corner roundabout in rush hour traffic, I had the idea to turn this experience into a picture of people expressing their emotions via their cars.

So I drew cars mutating into people, fighting, crawling like beetles on top of each other, in an apocalyptic scene that stretched to the horizon, as if the entire world was covered in cars.

And that is the point when an image becomes sublime. The sublime is the feeling of awe we get from the experience of perspective, that we are small in relation to the vastness of time and space. There are methods to creating this nightmarish effect of the sublime, rather than drawing thousands of cars filling the landscape it is possible to create this effect by obscuring them in darkness and smoke, because then the viewer can imagine this battle of cars that covers the world.

The subjects are also often sublime, traditional subjects like The Ship of Fools, The Dance of Death and The Wheel of Fortune are sublime concepts.

A subject like The Wheel of Fortune relates to mundane events in the daily news, but also to events through history, from the small and specific to the vast and general, all over the world are the ruins of the palaces of kings and dictators.

The effect of the sublime is a natural result of the way I work. For example, I wanted to draw a wolf preaching, (this is also an old subject, there are medieval woodcarvings of Fox preaching to geese, but you can relate the image of a wolf preaching to events in the news). I drew the wolf, and was happy with that part of the picture, but when I started to draw the sheep I thought they looked stupid, I could not decide if they should wear clothes, how they should sit, etc, and suddenly realised that I didn't have to draw the sheep at all, it was much less effort to leave the sheep out, and the picture was much better without them. A wolf preaching implied a flock, I didn't need to draw them. So I dissolved that side of the picture in a glare of light, leaving a hint of some archways. And that is the sublime, because it leaves the impression that the wolf is preaching to some vast hall, but that is in the imagination of the viewer. 

That is how I work, I edit out as much unnecessary information and detail as I can by loosing it in darkness or a glare of light, and that also gives the effect of sublime.

You have said that you are influenced by dreams and I wonder where you get the quality of dream that bodies forth in your work, have you experienced sleep paralysis or lucid dreaming?

I have not had lucid dreams, I have had sleep paralysis a few times, recently my wife woke me because I was screaming in my sleep (there was a gigantic semi transparent black dog leaping about the room, my wife said that "It had probably wandered up from the river path", - meaning that it was Black Shuck)

Most of my dreams are very boring, but I have had a few that I have been able to turn into drawings, the heads made of scaffolding and the drawings of figures as buildings.

I had those dreams while I had bad colds and a touch of fever. When I woke I sketched the image of myself as a structure falling to bits because I thought it had a sort of truth to it, like my other drawings, a grotesque fantastic image that is also a reality.

The strength of your vision is evidenced by the vitality you breathe into your drawings, something you achieve through refinement, were you born with this gift of drawing from the imagination, or is it something you trained yourself to do over time?

Drawing was the only thing that I was good at as a child, and I drew a lot so I got better at it.

I can recognise my hand in drawings that I did as a teenager, I don't know how much I have improved, but I can compose pictures and edit out the mistakes with more confidence than I could 20 years ago.... so I am learning.

Drawing from imagination is drawing from memory. I do not rely on my memory, I draw from imagination, then go back and check that I have not made mistakes, I used to collect books and newspaper cuttings for information,( how do you draw the paw of a lion, etc), but now we have google images it is much quicker.

Why do you think black and white suits fantastic imagery?

Because colour is often an unnecessary complication. 

And with fantastic images it can be difficult to decide what colour to make things, for example, my Library Head pictures, if they were in colour how would I handle the transition between the building and the face? There is a point where the face stops and the library begins, if the face was face coloured and the floor wood colour the two realities would clash and it would destroy the harmony of the picture. 

You are heavily influenced by literature, I can only imagine what a Rumsey fairy tale reads like and it saddens me, do you write?

I do not write, I have never tried to.

What are your thoughts on metamorphic art?

When I was 15 I drew a large illustration for Jabberwocky, that from a distance resolved into the face of Alice. 

Images that represent two or more things at the same time, it is a pictorial language, I use it if it means something.

I drew Rock Heads, two faces shouting at each other, that were also two rocks half buried in sand, I thought of it as fossilised conflict.

Another drawing is of a tree made of figures fighting each other. That is a single thing, like a religion for example, with sects at war with each other, and the figures that fall from the tree nourish the roots and the conflict continues to grow. If it was a political cartoon it would have names written on it which would make it specific, but this is an image that could relate to many conflicts from the past to the future. 

You would not conform to what was put in front of you at art college, you were self-taught, to an extent, and yet have mastered your craft. This raises two questions: Your respect for an older tradition, which some would call outmoded, arguably makes you an enemy of progress, how do you answer that charge? You have trained yourself to draw the way you wanted to, some readers might wonder if it is worth attending art classes if they already have a clear idea of what they want to accomplish, what do you say to them?

I don't see myself as an enemy of progress, but I think the word 'progress' is meaningless in the context of art.

Oil paint has brighter colours than fresco, but fresco lasts longer on plaster. Etching is easier than woodcut or engraving, but is different, not a progress.

You can say DVD is a progress from video, or that a new camera is a progress if it is smaller and has more memory, but the idea of progress in art is meaningless.

Since Impressionism art has become more limited, from Cezanne to Cubism to Abstraction to Minimalism to Conceptual art, there are more and more things that you are not permitted to do, if you wish to be considered 'modern'.

I know that I would find it very difficult to express what I want if I was working as a Conceptual or Installation artist.... If I want to draw a horse I just draw it, but if I was doing installation I would have to find a horse, kill it, stuff it and then find somewhere to store it.

I was looking at a conceptual artwork last week, it was four TVs, each with a flat colour on the screen and a buzzing sound. Am I supposed to be interested... is anyone interested? How long am I supposed to stand there looking at it? Am I supposed to go and find a text which will explain to me why I should find it interesting? All I know is that it is somehow my fault for not finding it interesting, and because I don't find it interesting I am considered out of date, uncool and an enemy of progress.

But I am not against Installation art, some I find interesting, I have always liked the work of Edward Kienholz, I can see what his work is about and it is visually interesting and has humour.

Is it worth going to art college? Is it worth getting a debt of about thirty thousand pounds or more? 

The Old Drawing Examination was stopped in 1951, that was when they stopped teaching anatomy and perspective, so if you want to learn the old fashioned stuff you will have to teach yourself. With the internet you can find everything you need to know, draw from life as much as possible, rather than from photographs, because from life you are synthesising a 3D reality rather than a 2D image. You can buy a medical grade plastic skeleton for about £100, draw from yourself and friends, I think that you are more likely to create something unique and original by looking at the widest range of art and teaching yourself than you would by going to art college and conforming to other peoples ideas of what art should be.

Considering you slept rough to allow you longer travelling through Italy, you must have felt that the experience was valuable, looking back, how formative do you think the trip to Italy was? Is there anywhere else in the world that you would like to visit to study the art?

It was 38 years ago that I travelled through Italy, I don't think that I have much of an urge to go back, I have so many books on art and have looked at so much since then... it would be fun to go back, but I can't afford it.

It is things that are new to me that I find most exciting. I like to go to Paris, last year I saw a brilliant exhibition of African Voodoo sculpture at the Cartier Foundation, this year I saw a amazing show of the works of Marcel Storr, I spent a few hours looking at them. I also saw a show of Italian outsider art at Halle Saint Pierre which was very good. When in Paris I like to visit the Gustave Moreau museum, but apart from Paris I don't have a great urge to travel... but one day I would like to go back to Vienna and see the Bruegels.

For all your resistance to art college I am sure that you have a great deal to teach, real drawing might not get all the investment and press attention but there will always be a hunger for it, you have lectured but have you considered teaching people to draw in your style?

I have not lectured much, I have given a talk on my work three times... I don't enjoy it.

I don't think there is much I could teach, I don't really have a style, anyone could do it.

I use charcoal and compressed charcoal on thick Somerset off-white printing paper.

I sketch in the idea, fill in the tones, correct mistakes with an eraser.

When it gets too messy I give it some fixative, and from then I have to use some sandpaper to help erase.

If something looks ok I keep it, if it is wrong I change it... I just carry on till it looks ok and I am happy with it and it is finished.

There is not much more to be said... the rest is the personal taste of the artist.

I try and keep it simple, edit out as much as I can, dissolve details in light or obscure them in shadows.

But that is just my method... I draw like that because it allows me to make as many changes and alterations as I like.

I don't worry about overworking a drawing... I just keep going till I am happy with it.

Or decide that it is rubbish and tear it up.

Paul Rumsey has recently exhibited at the Salon du Dessin DRAWING NOW art fair.

See more of his work:

http://www.angelfire.com/pa5/rumsey/

http://www.chappelgalleries.co.uk/exhibitions-05/paul-rumsey/paul-rumsey.htm

http://www.outsiderart.co.uk/rumsey.html

http://www.eastwestgallery.co.uk/artists/paulrumsey.asp