Derek Dickinson

Tell us about yourself. What is your background and where did you grow up?

How have your life experiences shaped your work?

I was born in 1960 in a public house in Plymouth city centre. In 1970 my parents relocated the family to another public house in a small village in south east Cornwall. It was there, in my room above the pub, that my relationship with art began. I started to sketch and paint at this early age; finding it to be something of my own, my sanctuary, a place of escape from the world around me, a world I often found harsh and frightening. From childhood I suffered from feelings of alienation, being and feeling different from my contemporaries.

My school years were a difficult time, my only interests were in the arts. I excelled in technical drawing, art, woodwork and crafts - anything that was creative. I struggled with other subjects, as it was not until much later in life that I was diagnosed with dyslexia. At the time of my early education dyslexia was unfortunately unrecognised.

On reflection, I now consider this emotionally complex period - throughout my development from childhood through adolescence, and into early adulthood - carved a pathway to my issues of mental instability and vulnerability. I feel this period of my life had a profound impact on the work I was making in my formative years and continues to manifest itself in my work to date. These experiences have shaped my practice, which investigates the human condition and reflects upon my existence.

Having finished my schooling at sixteen, with few qualifications, I fell into an apprenticeship in hairdressing. I took to this profession with ease and progressed rapidly, leading to salon management and part time lecturing at Plymouth City College.

In 1983 I relocated to London and worked my way to becoming a designer and stylist for film, photography, television, video and performance, and an assistant director on music videos, in artist management and PR, predominantly associated with the music industry.

Why did you become an artist and what has been your journey up to this point?

I don't consider I became an artist I feel I was born and artist, it just took me some time to gain the confidence to fully embrace it. I was so painfully shy and self-doubting regarding my work that I used to keep it all hidden and locked away in a wardrobe. The few close friends I trusted enough to show my work reassured me that I had talent and encouraged me to embrace that talent and expose it to the world.

The doubt and insecurity I have experienced, in regard to my work, was sometimes so great that I have wondered how I continued, yet I felt compelled to proceed with my creative activities, feeling my life would be incomplete without this expression. I now consider that it might possibly have been my ability to produce art that improved my mental state, enabling me to live a happier existence.

My further education began in 2009 at Plymouth City College, where I gained an access to higher education diploma, leading directly on to the BA Fine Art course at the University of Plymouth. After spending a decade working alone in my studio, feeling isolated, needing to engage with other artists, also wanting the opportunity to explore further my work with moving image, I returned to the University of Plymouth embarking on the MA Fine Arts course.

What is an average day in your studio like and what is your routine?

For me there is no such thing as an average day in the studio and I tend not to adhere to a routine. Sometimes I begin work and if things don’t go well I walk away, other times I might push on through. I tend to have times when I’m quite prolific and other times when I struggle to produce anything at all. If things don’t go well in the studio I often return to my office and work on film and sound editing.

What is your creative process?

When attempting a new piece of studio work, I often begin with a vision of what I hope to express, be it portraiture, figurative, or a scape of some kind. I have a picture, a vision, in my mind as to how I intended the piece to appear on completion. Somewhere throughout this process, this controlled approach would often change, and the work would begin to flow, I lose awareness of myself, and of time. This is when I feel my best work arrives.

To create my paintings, I first soak strips of muslin in paint before throwing them onto the canvas, attempting to capture a moment in time, a shape, a figure. Then, working back into the muslin, bringing the figure to the fore. I likened this process to a performance, using a burst of chaotic emotion as the impetus to throw the muslin, then returning to control and refine the composition. Over time I began creating the figures on board, allowing me to develop their interplay before transferring them to the canvas.

As well as a painting practice a more recent development has seen me returning to moving images and sound. The figures or forms present in my canvas works are also present in the work with film, sound, and performance. My films have a painterly quality, using light and movement to evoke a chiaroscuro quality.

How do you choose a medium for your work? Do you prepare and plan or do you improvise and experiment?

My choice of medium very much depends on what I am trying to express at the time. For the most part I work on canvas with acrylic paint and muslin. On occasion I have engaged in the use of oil paints, invoking a somewhat slower process. I very much enjoy the processes of working with video and sound, but unfortunately since the completion of the MA this has become somewhat restricted by the lack of access to studios and technical support.

Preparation and planning very much depends on the medium I am working in. When working on canvas I tend to be more spontaneous, when I over-plan things can become complicated and sometimes over-worked. When working with moving image and sound there is a lot more control and planning necessary, yet the spontaneity when filming can often produce the more interesting results.

I have used muslin as a medium for more than a decade. My attraction to this material evolved from a time I discovered several old muslin bandages amongst my grandmother’s belongings, found after her death. One day I began experimenting with these bandages, incorporating them in my work, seeing and using them as metaphors for physical pain, mental suffering, and the process of healing.

My interest in this material grew, I began buying reams of muslin fabric and using it on a much larger scale in my three dimensional and installation works. I began using unique reliefs of the muslin on stretched canvas, creating form, and revealing eclectic, emotional expressions through contortions of paint-soaked fabric.

Are your works conveying a message? Is there a narrative or a story to your

work?

My practice is strongly autobiographical, considering the challenging aspects of life, such as depression, addiction, and anxiety. Movement is a key factor in my work, an abstraction of fluid forms reflecting my interest in the endeavour of existence. My canvas works that employ acrylic paint and muslin, exploring spirituality through textural forms.

Over time these conceptual expressions of emotion have become more figurative. Elements of soulful musicality and dance are present in the work which explores the philosophy of the performer and reflects on human vulnerability. The minimalist canvases’ rich textures reveal delicate and sensual figures.

I have a fascination with performers, including Rudolf Nureyev and Vaslav Nijinsky, for their undying commitment to their art despite the suffering it can often entail. I used the image of the performer as a symbol for human suffering.