trevor brown interview by alicia allen, 2003 - conducted by email - unpublshed - intended for a book on the trend of artists using childhood images (ryden, mizuno, murakami. nara...)

Your work, which frequently depicts children and dolls in adult situations, could be characterized as dangerous. Dangerous professionally, as it is a threat to your commercial viability. Dangerous personally, as it has resulted in threats against you. But more notably, your work is dangerous culturally, as it threatens the media-made construct of childhood. Modern media (particularly Western media) perpetuates the notion that childhood is a period of pristine innocence and deserved indulgence. Your work challenges this concept. Why? What is your definition of childhood?

I guess it is true to say my work is dangerous on many levels. I think i have now learnt that my adopted subject matter is plain commercial suicide. I'm always going to be cheated of any real success, for better or worse. But i suppose that is the choice i made: i'm interested in art and not motivated by money. The personal dangers i (foolishly?) rarely think about. I do sometimes receive what can be regarded as threats but i generally find these to be ridiculously inane or bigoted. No cause for alarm. They merely serve to strengthen my own resolve to continue as i'm doing. I must be getting close to some 'truth' or some other thing they'd prefer left unknown if people are roused enough to want to repress me. So i want to know what it is? The actual content of my paintings is relatively chaste. I could easily make them far more extreme and shocking. So it must be the ideas and their own associations that are feared. I am of course aware that these few outspoken voices are, to a greater or lesser extent, representative of wider, media-generated, opinions. The notion, as you said, of childhood being a period of pristine innocence - which absolutely must be 'protected' (the oppressor's favoured word) from any notions that do not comply with that fallacy. Yes, i am out to challenge that. It is exactly this hypocrisy that agitates me and mostly fuels my work. Does everyone really have such short memories? We were all children once. We all stamped on ants and pulled legs of spiders. Innocence had little to do with it. We are only born innocent - the rest of life is spent deliberately and systematically destroying that. We each know very well what being a child is all about. It's a time of curiosity. Testing the limitations imposed on us. A time of exploration and learning. Even today's hysteric moralists must also have surely discovered, well below the age of eighteen, that touching their private parts felt good, contrary to the nebulous warnings of eternal damnation or whatever. The desired myth of children as non-sexual beings is a blatant lie.

Some of the dolls in your work are vintage issue (produced during your childhood), yet their surroundings are decidedly modern - stark, industrial or clinical in nature. This juxtaposition disrupts any inclinations towards nostalgia and leads viewers away from sentimentality. How is this aspect of your visual language related to your vision of childhood?

I can't remember any particular dolls from my childhood (if only for the fact i'm not female and had no interest in dolls - that and a poor memory) but looking at dolls now i find that those produced in the 60's/70's have the most appeal for me. I actually try to paint non-specific stereotypical dolls. Partly they are drawn from actual dolls and partly invented - ie. using my mind's image of what a doll is, which probably would have been formed by dolls seen in my own childhood. There's no strong connection, i'm aware of, between the dolls and toys i paint now and my own childhood. No bittersweet longing for a lost era. Hence that absence of sentimentality comes across in the paintings? The child iconography (and banal backgrounds etc) is adopted for more equivocal effect.

You create fine art, which is a high status activity, but you contrarily appropriate the iconography of sex and play, which are traditionally considered low-status activities. This uneasy co-existence of high and low is further echoed in your depictions of sexualised girls and dolls, which at once embody high (victimized innocence) and low (complicit worldliness). Is your work intended to erode the long-standing barriers between high and low culture, or is it dependent upon them?

I don't know as to if my work has ever been distinguished as fine art, to be honest. I do take what i do relatively earnestly and my own frame of mind is that of a fine artist i guess. This serious attitude in regard to my work has never really been reflected in magazines though. Generally i am ignored, or at best belittled, by all the mainstream press. To me, at present, it would be unthinkable for a major art magazine to even mention me, let alone run an article on my work. I'd dearly love to see the downfall of the divisions between high and low art and culture but i'm sadly not, nor will ever be, in the position of being a subverter from within. There's too much propping up the brick wall of conservation around high art. Even acknowledged fine artists who do use low art elements often seem at pains to maintain a lofty elitism regarding their position as fine artists and their use of such imagery. If i'm having any such insurgent effect as an outsider, that's great of course! But really i don't think i really want to be a part of any of it, i'm proudly independent.

You approach art not unlike a child at play, breaking rules, ignoring them or creating new ones as you go along. I sense that you approach enthusiastically, seeking pleasure or release. But more than this, you approach seeking to communicate through toys and paint that which is difficult to articulate. In 1998, you remarked, "I believe my work has 'something to say' - but exactly what i am not prepared or unable to say." (Suture, vol 1, 1998). How has working toward a message, rather than from a message, enabled you to preserve the playfulness in your work.

Having no real identifiable goal (or 'message') and avoiding making any concrete statements of intent naturally frees me to do as i want without caring too much. I'm not consciously breaking all the rules in an intentional manner (i'm actually acutely aware of legal restraints) but i do attempt to unburden myself of much of the usual objectionable art baggage. I get the impression that most aspiring artists regard gallery exhibition opening reception parties as the be-all and end-all of their existence. Yuck! I feel restricted even thinking of myself as an artist. I want to work intuitively. Yes, i want to have fun too. The major drawback of this licentious behaviour is that i lose artistic respect. 'Art' must have a message. Play is not allowed to be art. You have to play *their* game! So i suppose i'm actually a scientist not an artist? I'm experimenting on the masses (particularly the art world and the information media?) and myself. Haha!

Your depictions of dolls and children branded with barcodes seem to critique postmodern society's voracious appetite for the "cute". How does your artistic appropriation of cuteness (through iconic representations of young girls, dolls and toys) factor into the acceptance of your work by the general public, by the fine arts establishment? How is cuteness a commodity, or conversely a liability, in the world of postmodern art.

I was thinking, while reading this question, that it would be a good question for my wife (a very successful teddy bear artist in japan). The 'cute factor' is a highly persuasive (almost essential?) element in japan in regard to marketing and consumer acceptability. You cannot escape it here, you are bombarded with it 24-7, it's brainwashing, so i inevitably got sucked into it. I've no idea now of what percentage of my work is a comment on that and what percentage is happy submissive immersion in it. At first i did have a clearer vision and an awareness of 'discovering' an artistic path adopting and merging the Japanese propensity for cute with my own less savoury inclinations. And it was set upon with hopes of wider acceptance (survival instinct!). But i don't think that ever really happened in my case! My work isn't cute enough? Too tainted. Cute has to be more pure for commercial acceptance. And i believe in your implied suggestion that the cute factor is a potential liability as far as the fine arts establishment is concerned. Perhaps now that there are several notable artists exploring cute themes, and doubtless more following, the cracks into the snooty art establishment etc can be widened. If a trend is spotted those in positions of power will want to exploit it. The merits of this are, needless to say, equally questionable.

You seem to have a keen interest in medical play, as evidenced in 'Medical Fun' (Pan Exotica / Editions Treville, 2001). In that collection, damaged, dismembered and dissected dolls were recurrent motifs. Children often break their toys in an effort to discover how they function. Are your paintings of broken dolls then indicative of a desire to understand the female form from the inside out.

Teehee! I like the allusion. Both the doll as female analogy and myself as a frustrated child attempting to understand things (by breaking them apart). And as a boy the hardest thing to understand in this world is a girl! But I am not sure how much i am going to admit to this being true. There's also the possibility it could be indicative of repressed sadism. A psychologist's field day! I take delight in the ambiguity. I believe i'm pretty well adjusted though ...maybe? I think, actually, the underlying theme of many of my paintings is fragility and vulnerability. Partly this is an expression of my own 'coming to terms' with such mortal issues. I'm actually quite petrified of hospitals and blood etc. My fetishistic medical obsession is paradoxical, even to myself.

Due in part to the accessibility of your work through the internet and commercial outlets, you've cultivated a lush crop of young fans. Do you believe that your most youthful admirers comprehend your artistic perspective?

It doesn't much matter to me whether they are reading all kinds of deep insightful implications into my work or merely view it as eye candy. Everyone will find their own reason for liking (or loathing) my work. I can only attempt to control how it's presented to avoid any trivialisation and undesirable associations. I occasionally get girls as young as thirteen or fourteen writing to say they love my work. That actually makes me more happy than hearing from older guys where i start to worry what exactly their focus of appeal is. My youngest most obsessed fan, i know of, is a pretty little nine year old girl in Italy. As a frequent visitor to the Mondo Bizzarro gallery and bookshop in Bologna with her parents, she always made a beeline to my books. They tried to wean her away with Mark Ryden images but she wasn't interested. She could tell the difference between a Trevor Brown painting and a Mark Ryden! She was amazing. I'd love to understand what she seeing in my work and how it relates to her world (and why Mark's work failed to hit that same button for her).

'My Alphabet' (Pan Exotica / Editions Treville, 1999) is your parody of a children's alphabet book primer. Such books were historically imbued with socio-political subtext intended to introduce children to the adult world. What real world lessons did you hope to impart through 'My Alphabet'.

Any child reading 'My Alphabet' would be jolted into the adult world rather more directly and abruptly. Ha!, Trevor Brown books are no more subversive than real children's books! I was watching the face of the aforementioned young girl while she was leafing through a copy of, not 'My Alphabet' but my previous book 'Forbidden Fruit' (which probably contains more explicit works), but she remained completely inscrutable, blank but captivated, not betraying any sign of shock or disgust. I suspect she is quite a rare exception but we do tend to overly adopt the velvet gloves in regard to children nowadays. Older children's stories and nursery rhymes (also rhymes invented by children) are littered with violence and other frightful things. 'My Alphabet' was written with some inclination of the head in acknowledgement of that trait. The humour of the text and the paintings were kept uniformly black. The real world lessons to be learnt are i guess the same as in any other of my works: no assertive personal message but throwing (often closed) things open to other possibilities of cognisanse. Things are not either black or white.

Both art and play can prove educational. In fact, many theorists equate the two. Baudelaire asserted that, "The toy is the child's earliest initiation into art, or rather it is his first concrete example of art." Do you recall your earliest toys or forms of play? How did they shape the artist that you grew to be?

My memory is terrible. I do vaguely remember being most contented playing with the construction toys Lego and Meccano. No obvious relation to my life now as an artist? But even now i can't look at such toys in a toy shop with a feeling of longing. Nowadays, however, most of the sets seem geared toward making a single toy. I cherish my old boxes of neatly organised bits that you could build into something, brake apart and rebuilt into something else, only limited by your imagination. In that creative respect it was art.

Your wife, Konomi, makes teddy bears and has a sizeable doll collection. You seem to share her enthusiasm for toys. If you have a collection of your own, what need does it fulfil and which items are your favourites.

I do tend to be an avid collector of things. I used to keep obsessive scrapbooks and now the computer has taken over in assuaging and abetting my appetite for accumulating images and information. I am quite pedantic. If i become interested in a certain musician i have to obtain every single recording that that artist has made. This does fall short of 'at whatever cost' though. I'm not a collector obsessed with rarity value and the market value of things. I don't collect art. I feel dumbfounded seeing Konomi spend over $1000 on vintage Barbie dolls - to me they are just bits of old plastic. I collected 'Susie Sad Eyes' dolls for a while. I was instantly attracted to this sixties Keane-esque doll after finding one at a doll show. Like a child i stared at my new purchase for ages. Konomi mocked me but in the end she grew to love them too. Now i have a shelfful, and found a perfect condition original boxed one, that collection has been consummated. My ongoing collection is nurse and medical-related dolls. Having dolls around does inspire my art of course.

If you could recover one toy that you lost in your childhood, what would it be? If you could recover one personal attribute, what would that be?

I don't actually remember it myself but my parents told me about a soft toy rabbit i had when i was small, that i was inseparable from and always held by the neck. Gradually the neck grew longer and thinner until the head was attached to the body only by a string! I'd love to see that again. I can't think of any lost attributes to recover. Even things like youth and vitality seem less appealing than the forthcoming pleasure of being a cantankerous world-weary old eccentric.

As an adult male, your interest in dolls is suspect, whether justly or not.  The doll is after all an idealized female form that defies further objectification. If not in childhood, then specifically when did you become interested in dolls?  And what, apart from artistic inspiration, is the nature of your interest?  

A difficult question to answer! Did anyone ever ask Bellmer this? I don't think there was any sudden catalytic turning point, the interest was always there, but it was after moving to Japan i became more open about it (less ashamed about it) and indulged in it more. As you say, an adult male being attracted to dolls is sure to be regarded as suspect but, of course, i am not looking at dolls in quite the same way as a young girl. Well, perhaps partly i am conscious of how girls relate to dolls and harbour a feminine empathy. But i'll admit my own preoccupation with dolls is largely perverse. I guess i'll also concede that it's a cheat as far as my art is concerned as dolls guarantee some kind of emotional response. The symbolic nature of dolls cannot be ignored. My fascination is multi-levelled. On one level it is simply the visual appeal - that idealised perfect beauty. The sinister aura of dolls, particularly coupled with their inherent innocence as children's toys, another major magnetic attraction. Some other undefinable psychological thing about possession too maybe. If it was easy to put into words i wouldn't have to paint!
 
I imagine your medical obsession is, like some forms of play, a means of confronting what is threatening in a secure environment.  Through your work, you exercise godlike control over the fragile and vulnerable women in your paintings.  You are thus figuratively (albeit temporarily) removed from the role of mortal.  Do your concerns about mortality manifest themselves in other areas of your life or your art?

Living in Tokyo with frequent earthquakes you are constantly reminded of your own mortality. It's something i actually want to avoid facing. I'm weak. So i'm not completely convinced my own art is an admirable head-on confrontation with fears and insecurities. Not a conscious one anyway. Producing art does make me feel more powerful though. Art definitely is a wondrous detached immortal realm you can escape to, hide in and play god in. I'll gingerly fetishise fears, aestheticise anxieties and otherwise manipulate things while the euphoria lasts. But i'm all too aware that once exposed to the real world it's quickly contestable and destructible. I can fully understand why Darger didn't show anyone what he was up to. We don't need to question his sanity. I think, shamefully, i lack the courage and am too shy to fully exploit the power and 'freedom' that art allows. Despite all evidence to the contrary, i like to feel safe. I'm a baby.