“I’m trying to capture a moment, the appearance of a work teetering on the edge of collapse.”
In the simplest possible terms, James Tailor’s work is the artistic iteration of an old-school Disney movie; think the furniture that comes to life in Beauty and The Beast. The London-based artist has an inexplicable knack for humanizing discarded furniture and telling a touching story through no more than a crate, a duvet, and a quartet of antique chair legs.
When Tailor was cutting his teeth, he was awarded the Helen Scott Lidgett Acme Award, providing him with a generous bursary, rent-free studio space, and mentoring. More recently, he was selected to become an artist-in-residence at Alexander McQueen’s Sarabande foundation. Financial assistance for creatives therefore lies close to his art, in an industry where artists, particularly those without familial finical support, often struggle to support their work.
In the interview below, which has been edited for length and clarity, Tailor opens up about how organizations like Sarabande offer a “lifeline” to emerging artists, his ability to anthropomorphize found objects, and working on Kanye West’s Black Skinhead music video.
Juno Kelly: What attracted you to re-purposing found objects?
James Tailor: I’ve always been attracted to found, broken, or discarded objects, as they come with their own history. I’m normally drawn to furniture to use as the base of a work— antique legs are particularly good for this as they have anthropomorphic qualities. Working with a tragic comedy and a Disney-esque aesthetic, I try to get the viewer to see the final assemblage as a character in this light. Underneath it all, there is empathy.
Juno Kelly: You’ve been quoted saying your work turns “melancholy into material form.” Can you expand on what you mean by that?
James Tailor: Working with assemblage, I’m trying to capture a moment, the appearance of a work teetering on the edge of collapse, somehow holding itself together or still standing. Using obviously discarded or even tragic items holds an abstraction of melancholy. Then, by juxtaposing this with the appearance of imbalance, my hope is that the work can be read as a turning point or strength. This is mirrored in the addictive way I work with paint, through making paint skins, impasto, or coagulating, all of which result in a material object or painting compounded by my obsession with finding new ways of working with the traditional medium.
JK: The captions to your artwork on Instagram give little away about the piece’s meaning and inspiration. Is that a conscious choice you made?
JT: I used to title all paintings similarly to my sculptures. However, at a certain point, an archival approach made more sense. Mainly because titling became too time-consuming. My assemblages have slightly more revealing titles, although I try to keep it open-ended so I lead viewers as little as possible, allowing them to come to their own conclusions.
JK: What’s your take on social media as a means of showcasing creative work?
JT: It’s the right platform for my work at the moment. It’s where the majority of people are, so it helps with generating visibility, seeing current work from across the world, and it’s an easy place where you can connect with artists, curators, galleries, and institutions.
JK: What role did you play in the creation of Kanye West’s Black Skinhead music video with famed British photographer Nick Knight?
JT: The Kanye shoot was the first time I worked with Nick Knight. My role was to paint nine large abstract action paintings in two days while being filmed, with the intention of segments being used as a backdrop in the video. The final video was interesting as it could be slowed down by viewers and viewed as an intentional artwork over multiple hours. It was a great experience, if not a little surreal—being filmed by Nick mainly, then the resulting paintings being co-owned in a strange triangle between Death Jam Records, Kanye, and myself.
JK: How did you get involved with the Sarabande foundation?
JT: Being a fan of Alexander McQueen’s journey, I’ve known about Sarabande for years and wanted to apply. I’m normally so wrapped up in making that I sometimes miss deadlines due to time constraints. However, last year I finally got around to applying and was lucky enough to be invited to join them for an interview, then was asked to join for 2021/2022.
JK: Before Sarabande, you received the Helen Scott Lidgett Acme Award, entitling you to a rent-free studio and grant. Why are organizations like this and Sarabande so crucial for emerging artists?
JT: Foundations like the Helen Scott Lidgett/Acme award and Sarabande Foundation should be considered lifelines for artists. Both foundations were set up by, or for, people who understand the struggle of trying to make it in the arts. Though they differ slightly, they both help artists with time, space, and guidance for a year. This means you have a year plan, support, life long connections, and the awards are indicators that you are on the right track.
JK: Your selection of works ‘Patiently’ explores “the re-commitments required to stay within the arts.” Can you speak more to this, and what attracted you to this topic?
JT: The idea I’m conveying with Patiently is that the assemblage (art piece) is patiently, impatiently waiting for something to happen while trying to keep its composure. While it’s a pleasure, working in the arts is also about endurance, and many talented artists, mostly from minority groups, end up falling through the cracks. More opportunities could make being in the arts easier for important voices that aid a well-rounded view of our society.
https://sarabandefoundation.org
Images courtesy of James Tailor.
