I met
Stanley Donwood at the opening of his
El Chupacabra exhibition at the
Weapon of Choice gallery. Here are his words on the subject of the exhibition:
"
So, right, after suffering a long fixation with the horned gods and having to live amongst some of the most mendacious shit I can remember I started making pictures of Pandemons.
I’ve got nothing against goats. I’ve simply discovered that if I draw a goat, give it the mouth of a rapacious carnivore then dress it in the suit and tie of a disgraced banker or politician it looks fucking evil.
And if I paste it onto a sheet of plywood and pour plenty of paint over them I feel marginally better.
A Pandemon is a feral carnivorous parasite, feasting ingloriously on the foully smouldering remains of late-period Western consumer capitalism. Wearing the suit and tie of 'Sir' Fred Goodwin/Andy Hornby/whichever white-collar criminal/politician is currently riling me. Is that a political message? I've started drawing these things and I don't know why. I can't stop."
The atmosphere at the opening was so warm and friendly that, after having a tequila proposed by mr Donwood, I asked his permission to send him my questions. And when I got the answers I wrote him back and he answered me back again. So here is the interview.
Q: What was the story behind creating the In Rainbows cover? Is it true that you accidentally spilt some candle wax on the paper and it went from there?
SD: Yes, that’s pretty much true. That, combined with the use of hypodermic needles and large syringes.
Q: When working with Radiohead – does the band always totally accept your ideas?
SD: Mostly. Usually.
Q: When doing projects unassociated with Radiohead, do you need to listen to the music? If yes, what kind of music do you choose? Or you prefer the quietness?
SD: I usually listen to records in my studio. At home there is usually the chatter of the television machine.
Q: You’ve been doing a lot of your graphic design on the computer. But if one day there are no more hard drives left on Earth, would you regret it?
SD: Not at all. I would dance.
Q: What is most attractive in digital methods for you? Do you miss UNDO when painting?
SD: Not at all. I try not to ever use it on a computer. For OK Computer that was the rule; NEVER use undo.
Q: Imagine that situation from “The Matrix” (Keanu Reeves: “I know Kung-Fu”): you can learn something by just having it loaded into your brain, without really spending much time on training. What would you learn?
SD: I have no ambition to do anything supra-human; flying isn't attractive for instance. I can't even drive. But being able to speak another language, or maybe with the Matrix, all languages, would be fantastic.
Q: Do you draw for your kids?
SD: Not really. They see me doing drawings, and I draw them birthday cards and a few other things, but I don’t think they’re that bothered.
Q: How did you come to the such techniques as linocut and photogravure?
SD: I just did. I’ve done printmaking or years and years, ever since school.
Q: What was your last internet bookmark concerning some interesting artist?
SD: I looked up
Sol Le Witt. In particular, his wall drawings. Extremely interesting.
Q: Does it happen that the final result of your work is something completely and ridiculously different from the original idea?
SD: Almost all the time.
Q: What was the most weird place you’ve been painting at (I’ve read a story about you and Thom Yorke painting with knives and only in blue colour on the top of some hill)?
SD: The day after that we painted from the middle of a prehistoric stone circle next to a china clay quarry. That was quite strange. But I think the oddest was on the crumbling veranda of a derelict stately home in the middle of a forest, during the recording of In Rainbows.
Q: Did you ever deliberately stop yourself from painting/drawing/writing for some period of time? Or is it some sort of physical need for you?
SD: I try to stop for a little while in the summer, so I can be a normal dad instead of an obsessive scribbler. And I can answer questions properly instead of just staring blankly into space and saying “what?”
Q: What was your longest time-taking project?
SD: It was either Kid A or In Rainbows. Both took about two years.
Q: Your art often contains a very strong political or/and ecological message. Do you think art should be used for “fighting against”? Because there is a point of view that art should be something free from these subjects or even “above them”.
SD: I used to think that, but then I had a revelation when I was 21 and realised that the only honest art I could make was political art.
Q: You once said that people paint or write books or play music in order not to feel alone. Do you need the audience? Would you continue even if no-one would feel the connection with your work?
SD: I’m not sure, to be honest. I’m pretty sure that I would, even if the audience was just small and local. If there was no-one at all, I don’t know. I might just look after my garden and live in the woods.
Q: Your works have been exhibited in many countries. What was your strongest impression from the visitors? How did people react in Japan?
SD: Spain was quite intense, although that was my ‘first time’. That was Barcelona in 2006. And Tokyo was two years later. That was pretty intense too, although in that case the ameliorating factor may have been the jetlag. Actually the opening night was really nice; very, um, respectful and polite, which I really appreciated. Later that night though, that was when things got seriously weird.
Q: How do you write your stories (one of my favourite ones is about the person coming too early for the party and seeing the aliens behind the curtains instead of hosts)?
SD: A lot of my stories were written about ten years ago when I still had dreams. I thought that my dreams were very mundane whilst still being terrifying (to me) and then I discovered, by accident, that writing them down deprived them of their power. So I wrote them all down. And now I don’t have dreams any more, which is kind of cool but also a little sad as I don’t have any stories to write any more.
Q: Why don't you have dreams anymore?
SD: I don't know. Perhaps it was age-related, or perhaps I scared them away by writing them down. I think that the place we go when we dream is quite real. I didn't want to go there any more.
Q: Your stories can be read from your website. What does it mean to you having them published in a book?
SD: I really like books, but I don’t have any affection for websites or computers. My blood is unstirred by machines.
Q: There are some fan translations of your stories into Russian. I’ve heard some people would like to publish them in Saint-Petersburg. What would you think about it?
SD: That would be great. I don’t read Russian but I reckon it would look great. I could do a cover for them maybe.
Q: (Special Russian Question): All English people I’ve met seem shocked when they see a cup of tea with raspberry jam in it (which is quite common in Russia). Would you be?
SD: This is my favourite question. But I have to answer with another question, because there are two kinds of raspberry jam; seeds or no seeds. Me, I’d use the jam without seeds. Although there are always breadcrumbs in the jam too. People in England put lemon in tea. I put whisky in mine once but it wasn’t very nice.
Q: With seeds? Tea with raspberry jam looks amazing, it's like there are clouds inside it.
SD: I will try. Have you tried coffee with whisky? It's nice on a cold night. If you're outdoors.
