Remi Rough

Steven Cox: Can you tell me about your studio and working routine? Do you have any morning rituals or habits that contribute towards a fulfilling day in the studio?

Remi Rough: So I’m pretty much in the studio most days. It’s a short 15 minute bus ride there so it's easy to get to. I don’t take my computer with me as I find that distracting. I usually organise a playlist for the day or edit an already existing one whilst en route. I always work from drawings so again the short journey can be a great meditative time to edit and look through things. I usually stop for some supplies locally and then start painting. Paper works I can usually get through in two to three days per piece but the larger panels can take weeks sometimes, so invariably I’ll be continuing work on something that's in progress already. I try to get at least one work done every one to two weeks unless I’m off on mural commissions. I often work on two pieces at the same time.

SC: I find the commute to the studio to be an important part of my day because I find inspiration from surfaces and textures that I encounter along the way. What about the landscape in your immediate vicinity? Do you find it equally inspiring? Can you think of any architecturally significant buildings that captivate your attention?

RR: My commute is pretty interesting, it’s either a walk, short bus ride or if I’m running late, an even shorter train ride and there’s a huge amount of visual content to take in on any one of those options. It’s also a time for me to detune and clear my mind a bit. Also the way Elephant & Castle is being developed at such a fast pace is really interesting to me. So many new buildings everywhere you look. I always tell people that from one side of the studio you get 1940’s wartime London and then through the other side it’s Blade Runner.

SC: My knowledge of your work includes the fact that music is an integral part. Can you discuss what role does music play in your artistic process and in the compositions you create? Can your work even be considered without taking music into account?

RR: I can’t work without music, I think the music can really influence the painting too. Sometimes I’ll be listening to Miles Davis or Thelonius Monk and the paintings can take quite a dark turn, sometimes it’ll be some obscure left field rap group from Chicago or Boards of Canada, whatever, it all channels through me into the work in different ways. I’m not sure you can really consider the work without the music behind it. I think musicality opens up parts of your auditory cortex to new ideas, shapes, colours and compositions. I often think I should write down the playlists of certain paintings and compare them, but I get so engrossed in the physical act of painting that I always forget. I have soundtracked my work as well. In 2017 I did a solo show at Wunderkammern Gallery in Rome and created an 11 track instrumental soundtrack to accompany the exhibition which was called ’Symphony of systematic minimalism’.

SC: My assessment of your work after viewing it for some time is that it is tri-faceted. While the flat sections of colour suggest architectural plains, the dynamic and somewhat electric juxtaposition of angles and geometric perspectives suggests wildstyle graffiti. Similarly, I find these shapes reminiscent of an audio spectrum visualiser because of their bouncing multidimensional and multidirectional angles. In a way, it's like you're bringing our landscape to life by making its frequencies visible.

Combined, I sense a total abstraction of your own landscape and history. Do you consider your works biographical? Why are these structures constructed the way they are? Could these structures be interpreted in an alternative manner?

RR: Every piece tells a story, the stories come from within and become part of the larger pantheon. There are friends, memories, sounds, places and times within all of my paintings. I guess the structures keep those abstract narratives continued in some way. I’m almost definitely the only person who knows the backgrounds but people often build their own narratives around the works, which I love. The only other way to look at them is through a nostalgic lens and to see them as futuristic details of graffiti pieces that never were and will never be. Those same dynamics and a mixture of beauty and aggression which is a strange combination I suppose but that's what I feel looking at them sometimes.

SC: Can you tell me about your experience as a train writer in London in the 1980’s?

RR: If I’m honest I wasn’t a massive train painter, I only ever did around 12 trains in my career. It was a mad time, I still look back and can't quite believe I was doing such crazy things. At that point the book ’Subway Art’ by Henry Chalfant and Martha Cooper was my main reference for graffiti writing so trains just seemed the natural surface to paint. There’s something incredible about seeing your piece running and knowing that it was going from one end of the city to the other and being seen by thousands of people. It would have to be really planned out, we were young and stupid but we did consider safety to a degree. There were a couple of train yards which I favoured for ease of access and  for good light too. I did a couple in pitch black yards and the end result was pretty bad. I also mainly did British Rails as I didn’t have a tube stop that close to me so I only ever did 2 tubes, One of them was an end to end with two artists called Mear and  Tera which we painted in Parsons Green one summer, it run for an entire day and we spent most of that day chasing around London trying to get pics of it and then eventually it ended up in Hammersmith depot and we climbed over and took daylight photos of it. A driver walked by us as we were taking snaps, looked at us, looked at the train and said nice job lads… Mad!? All in all it was a brief moment in time but nonetheless I think it was essential to my development as an artist.

SC: When it comes to your paintings, I can see a connection with style writing. The dynamic lines and geometric shapes present in your works echo the electric spirit of style writing. Having such a vibrant and diverse palette of colour and perspectives doesn't allow my eyes to rest. As far as I am concerned, this wonderful energy is what defines style writing and the culture at large. How important is it to you that your work reflects this? Do you find it challenging to work continuously at this speed and to have your works embody and comment on the ongoing development of this movement?

RR: It's always challenging, being an artist is challenging, constantly trying to find the new within the old is challenging but I accept that and lose myself to it. The connection to style writing is probably the most prominent reference within the work, I embrace that reference and respect it because I didn’t create that movement I just became part of it. The energy feeds me and hopefully feeds the painting. I want people to feel a slight unease when looking at them, I don’t want to make work that just looks aesthetic, I want it to have a backstory, a beginning, a middle and an end. Graffiti isn’t for public consumption, it’s a highly coded language only for those within the culture, it does its best to alienate the outside observers so even now I feel a need to conserve that perception. It’s available for all but please understand the privilege of access into this world. It took a lot for us to share our work and stories with the outside world and I’m not sure people fully understand that.

SC: How do you approach your abstract compositions and what is your creative process like?

RR: Everything starts with a drawing first, a study or sketch and then I draw on to the paper or panel. There is always room for adaptation and I guess my graffiti background makes those adaptations quite easy for me as you always had to adapt in some way or other. Once the framework is finished I can start to mask off certain parts of the piece with tape and  begin the painting process, I use a mixture of acrylics and spray paints, they work quite well together as they’re both acrylic based. I generally work with the lighter colours first and move to using the darker colours as I go, I also use a transparent spray paint which is how I create the shadows between the folds in my work. There’s a lot of waiting for paint to dry and working up gradients, which takes quite a while. But bit by bit I build them up in sections. I like to be able to change things as I’m working, my initial ideas are usually solid but as I said there’s always room for improvement to change. I often redraw over the finished painting to enhance some of the graphite lines as I think they add an interesting element of process to the pieces. I am trying to create something aesthetically beautiful but there are other reasons behind the work and why I am trying to resolve these constantly changing compositions. I am also interested in the infinite number of ways to create those compositions. Once I feel I have gotten to a resolve with it I can then varnish it and let it go. I often think painting is all about letting go.

SC: I am looking forward to seeing your solo exhibition Precision Burners at JG Contemporary in London. Can you tell me about this particular series of works that you will be presenting? Will this be your first collaboration with the gallery?

RR: This series has been made over the past 2 years and consists of a couple of variations on compositional formats that I have been playing with. The title comes from simply how precise they look. I try to make them as clean as possible but still by human hand so there is always an element of grit within them. Burners is what we called great pieces back in my graffiti days so it just seemed to fit as a title. I often reference the style writing and graffiti within titles or concepts as I think the references are still valid. I have totally gone down a rabbit hole of process and into compositions I haven’t really worked with before. The whole idea with my work is to capture that same dynamism as my graffiti works had but present them in an entirely different language. My paintings are all about language even though there are no longer letters within the paintings. I have worked with JG for a few years now, Jewel is an old friend of mine and huge supporter of my work. The show consists of 15 painted works on A3 handmade paper, all beautifully framed by Gavin Traeger.

SC: Will these works on paper act as precursors to larger works on canvas or outdoor murals?

RR: I don’t like waste and everything should have a purpose beyond its initial purpose. So I often use them as studies for larger or variant ideas. Not always necessarily for murals, sometimes for brand collaborations or just other paintings. There are so many working parts to my work that I can easily move parts around and sample into other paintings.

SC: Considering your variety of creative outlets, how important is it for contemporary artists to engage with a variety of artistic mediums and forms beyond their primary discipline? Do you encourage other artists to try their hand at alternative disciplines?

RR: I think it’s so important. Far too many artists simply paint pictures. They don’t write about them, don’t explain what was behind creating them, It needs context, not necessarily written context, it can be audio, visual, whatever. But when you create something from nothing, it needs a narrative to go alongside it in my opinion. Your disciplines can change as well. I have been dabbling in film making on various levels and thinking how I can re-tune my practice to work within that medium. It's exciting but not always easy, but if it was easy then what would be the point?

SC: Talking about alternative disciplines, TheDeadCanRap is a collaborative music project between yourself and Mike Ladd, the American rapper, poet and producer. How did this collaboration begin? Do you find making music equally or more liberating than making paintings?

RR: TheDeadCanRap is an art project born out of the minds of two friends who felt they were slightly too old to be doing certain things so we repackaged it and TheDeadCanRap was born. Mike Ladd and I have been friends since 1999, we have toured together and made various art and music projects together over the years. I sent Mike a collection of sketch beats back in 2018, he really liked them and suggested we work towards something. Mike came up with name; TheDeadCanRap and two years later our self titled album was released. We got a rave review in Wire and 4 stars in Mojo… I was pretty happy with that. Sadly we couldn’t perform it all due to the pandemic, we only managed two shows pre covid but there’s new music on the way finally. Mike lives in Paris and has been working on the soundtrack for the new Netflix series ’Transatlantic’ foe the past year, so he’s been pretty busy with that but we have two new songs finished and more to come soon. Music making is a completely different discipline to painting, you have to be less organic and more structured about time, plus when you finish a painting, thats it… When you finish a song, it needs to be mixed and mastered and other people have to be involved in those aspects. I do love making music though and I have also just finished recording a solo album with some incredible guests on it, Mike Ladd (obviously), Quelle Chris, Eldon Somers, GeeBag, Will Stevenson and NahReally from New Jersey. Making music is as important to me as making paintings. It’s all still making art though.

SC: I’m aware that the 2012 exhibition Piet Mondrian and Ben Nicholson:In Parallel at the Courtauld had an influence on you and your work. What was it about this specific exhibition that changed the way you looked at your own work, and what was the eureka moment where you felt an affinity with these artists in relation to your own independent artistic philosophy and vision? Did this exhibition change you?

RR: I saw that exhibition with an artist friend of mine; Steve More and I didn't really know that much about either artist in terms of their personal lives and careers, I only knew a little of both their work. The connection they had and the way Nicholson was adamant in helping revive Mondrian’s then stagnant career really impressed me. The dialogue between their very different works also really became apparent to me and I started looking at my own work in a much more critical way. I think that show really helped me get into the place I truly wanted to be in as a painter. I also felt a connection to Mondrian as my career was in quite a strange place at that point and lots of street art opportunities were being presented to me but that’s not where I’m from and not where I wanted to be. I think that exhibition brought me clarification on numerous levels, I’m very grateful for that and subsequently have made sure I go to as many shows as I can whenever I can. It also started me off collecting art books.

SC: The shapes and structures of your works seem to reference De Stijl, Suprematism, and Italian Futurism. What is it about these movements that continue to inspire you? Furthermore, I am aware that the Black Square by Kazimir Malevich has also been directly referenced within your own work; is there a symbolic meaning behind this reference?

RR: There is some sense of obligation to continue working through similar observations as the artists from those movements worked through. In a lot of ways painting is regarded as redundant nowadays by some artists working in new mediums but I reject that notion and much in the same way that artists look to the past to find inspiration. I am looking to the past to rejuvenate that inspiration and hopefully channel it through my own reinterpretations.

SC: I wonder if you would ever venture into product or furniture design considering your interest in De Stijl. I can imagine a Remi Rough series of bespoke chairs or furniture influenced by the likes of Gerrit Rietveld…

RR: Funnily enough my good friend Tom Kellet, who just so happens to be a furniture designer, has been working with me on some ideas for a coffee table. I like the idea of engineering art into utilitarian objects. The 3D element is always present in my work so I guess it does seem like a logical path to follow. That classic flooding chair by Rietveld definitely holds a place in my heart.

SC:  I’ve read in a past interview where you discuss Suprematism, that you felt ‘it wasn’t quite where it should be in terms of composition or finish’. Would you mind sharing your thoughts on the difference between what's being done today and what was done at the time? Do you feel that contemporary processes eclipse those of the past? Do contemporary artists have a duty to continue adding extra seasoning to past conversations?

RR: I love that line ‘adding extra seasoning to past conversations.’ Yes totally, like I said I have an obligation to work through it. Suprematism was diluted by politics and dissent and in my humble opinion it never quite reached maximum potential. Take Malevich’s building maquettes for example. If he were to design those now he could be 3D printing them or designing them in virtual space. I think technology is our ally in continuing these trajectories of the masters who went before us. Their manifestos read like calls to arms so it seems only right that they would want us to join their fight for a minimalist future of art and design.

SC: Can you describe the process of creating one of your large-scale murals? How do these murals come into existence, and what are some of the most significant murals that you have created to date?

RR: It kind of depends on the walls really but essentially they’re all quite analogue. I draw the frameworks on to the wall with chalk lines and graphite, then I would start painting. I have recently been leaving a lot of the surface showing through, be it brick or concrete, and in this case I would prime the sketched structure in an off white primer then redraw the lines over the white in order to start blocking out the colours. My recent mural in Acton for the Acton Unframed project was one of the most complicated I have done to date. but really once your lines are hit it’s just a question of filling those shapes. I guess the Megaro Hotel in St Pancras is one of my most well known murals, I’m also pretty sure it’s still currently the largest in London. I painted it with LX One, Augustine Kofie and Steve More. The VCU Honors building in Richmond. Virginia is also a significant piece. I painted it in 2017 and the new VCU Institute of Contemporary Art was just being built at the time and now it’s one of the premier contemporary museums in that whole region and it’s directly in front of the museum. I also consider the circular mural I did for the Art Science museum in Singapore quite an important piece. There are barely any murals in Singapore as it’s completely illegal but the museum managed to cut through the red tape and make it happen, so I am pretty proud of that one too.

SC: Can you discuss the importance of location when it comes to exhibiting your work in the public domain?

RR: Location is everything! The Megaro for example is undoubtedly the most photographed mural in Central London. Every time I come out of the station there is someone taking a photograph of it. With other murals I try to learn about the area and include aspects of the surrounding. People think that's hard with abstraction but it isn’t really, we’re surrounded by shapes, forms and colours all the time. I also have to be aware that once I’m finished it no longer belongs to me, it belongs to the people who live around it… It’s theirs. I have painted murals in cities that I have literally never been back to and  may never see again in the flesh. I like that, I like the fact that I leave a little part of myself in these different places.

SC: Can you talk about any specific challenges you've faced over the years transitioning from the graffiti world to the art market?

RR: Numerous really. I think initially the way people tend to connect street art and style writing drives me mad, they’re quite literally nothing to do with each other. Poles apart in terms of audience, techniques and most importantly history. Graffiti writing is the only art movement in history, created by and    taken forward by children. Its importance in art history cannot be understated. Some of its practitioners like Kaws, Jose Parla, Futura, Os Gemeos are staples at art fairs like Frieze and showing works in major museums around the world. I have pushed my work into a completely different space over the past 10 years but it’s often been complicated. Many of the more contemporary galleries look down on the movement as a whole but don’t take the time to research it and find out the evolving narratives within. I recently walked into Gagosian in London to see a group show and there was a RammellZee painting in the show. Not many people know of RammellZee but he was a New York graffiti writer who sadly passed away in 2013. To see his work in Gagosian gave me assurance that people within the art word were starting to take notice and understand. I myself have had work in numerous museums and  collections, I had a piece included in the British Museum permanent collection last year. I think part of the problem is a lot of us artists who come from graffiti (myself included), haven’t been to art school, but yet we are educated in art history, self educated, I guarantee I have more books on my shelves than most of the artists I know. We have been painting since we were children, strategically organising painting the entire side of trains or large walls with other children. We have grown, evolved and pushed forward.

SC: Can you talk about your recent collaboration with FootPatrol?

RR: I have known the Footpatrol team for a while now, they asked to do a photoshoot in my studio just as lockdowns were easing up and then they approached me to do a limited edition capsule for their 20 year anniversary. They were such nice people to work with and  they gave me absolute creative freedom which in the corporate world of art collaborations is quite rare. I wanted to create something that was intrinsically me but was also unique to them so I digitally designed the artwork that ended up going on the t-shirt. It launched last month in their London and Paris shops. I’m sure it won't be the last thing we do together, there’s already talk of some more projects. I really like working with brands as it gets your work out to new audiences and also helps to keep the studio running. That said, I’m pretty picky with what I say yes to and I say no way more than I say yes.

SC: In today's digital age, how do you feel about the shift in the way art is viewed and consumed?

RR:  I feel more than ever it’s important to get out and look at art in real life! Digitally you can consume way more but some things are lost I think. My works for Precision Burners look quite nice on an iPhone screen but seeing them in the flesh creates a whole new storyline. You can see the mistakes, the grit and the texture. If all we ever do is consume art on screens we will eventually lose the power to observe and those happy accidents will pass us by and never be appreciated.

SC: There are several fantastic museum exhibitions that I would love to discuss with you, though one specific exhibition that I believe warrants attention is Next Wave at The Fort Wayne Museum of Art, which took place in 2022. From my understanding, this exhibition celebrates a select group of artists who’ve ‘transitioned’ away from purely graffiti and style writing, and now are focussing more exclusively on developing unique conversations surrounding abstraction at large. 

Can you tell me about the significance of this exhibition? Did the exhibition adequately celebrate this evolving narrative? Or, should this exhibition travel and become a yearly project that continues to highlight the ongoing evolution of graffiti and style writing?

RR: I think the Next Wave show is one of my proudest achievements as it is my first curatorial project for a major museum. The exhibition is about language and dialogue and the broader conversation of art history. The 9 artists (myself included), all began painting with no formal education, a couple of the artists did obtain formal education but only after they had started writing graffiti. So even with that in mind it's still an afterthought. I wanted the viewers to experience the show with no preconception or judgement. I wanted people to see some top tier artists working with abstraction, who’s work sits more than comfortably in a museum setting without thinking; graffiti art, street art etc etc… Keith Hopewell for example was a key figure in the 90’s graffiti scene and one of the first artists to absolutely nail photo realism with spray paint but his work has moved on so much from that now and is quite conceptual in its current state. He uses film to explain the process of the works he makes but they’re not simply explanatory, they become artworks themselves and the narrative becomes larger through a variety of mediums. Boris Tellegen has expanded his language into three dimensional monoliths which deal with space and plane and question the tangibility of what a sculpture should be. I was incredibly pleased with that show.

I would love to do a second reiteration of the show, possibly with a slightly different line up and include artists who don’t have a history in graffiti to see how the dialogues between the artists evolve. I have ideas and I have already spoken with some possible galleries about it.

SC: From your perspective, do you feel that curators know enough about Graffiti and street culture? Do they have a responsibility to do so? Are there any specific curators that you feel are successfully championing this culture in the way that it truly deserves?

RR: Not even slightly. They are so ignorant of it in fact and some of the ones who claim to be knowledgeable really haven’t a clue. I recently did a talk with Dr Lois Oliver from the Royal Academy and the amount of research she put into the prep really shocked me, I think she learnt more about the culture in a few weeks than some people have learnt in years. She also made the RA library buy Spraycan Art and Subway Art as they had neither book in their collection. Dr Oliver has just curated the Morisot exhibition at the Dulwich Picture Gallery to rave reviews from the press and her knowledge of impressionism and general history of art is astounding so it seems only right that Style writing should be part of that canon. We have discussed doing a project together at some point which I think would be amazing.

SC: Similarly, are there any specific galleries celebrating this genre best? What can other galleries learn from them and why?

RR: Not at a high level. There are glimmers. I recently walked into Gagosian and the first painting I saw was by an artist called RammellZee, Ben Brown Gallery has Jose Parla but that's it, same with Almine Rech and Kenny Scharf. Eric Firestone in New York really knows his stuff and I always love bumping into Eric for a little chat and catch up. I guess Deitch as well has always championed some of the artists from this movement to a degree. I think research is key, galleries need to work with artists who have taken their work from the trains to canvas to whatever and tell those stories proudly.