F ... State of Emergency.Jonathan Greenland, Contributor
Christopher Irons is a Jamaican artist living and working in Kingston. A resident of Buff Bay, Portland, his work 'F ... State of Emergency' (2002) is part of the collection of the National Gallery. It is composed of metal, body filler, fiberglass, acrylic paint, clothes pegs, toilet paper, hose pipe, threads, glue and welding wire.
Here he discusses his work with Dr. Jonathan Greenland of the National Gallery of Jamaica.
Jonathan Greenland: Describe your piece 'F ... State of Emergency' in the National Gallery.
Christopher Irons: It is a dog being eaten by a Johncrow. The Johncrow on the back picking the behind represents the People's National Party (PNP). The one on the front picking out the eyes represents the Jamaica Labour Party (JLP). On the dog I have written references to the scandals, corruption and mismanagement that both parties are involved in. Below, I have rats representing the so-called 'investors'. The people who profit from the corruption: the big men and the business community.
JG: Don't you have anything good to say about any of them?
CI: They are like pimps. The people I like are the ones who respect the sanctity of life, regardless of wealth and class. My work is inspired by the suffering endured by me and my people. They treat we the people like dogs. in Jamaica we don't really treat dogs good. By the way, there were too many scandals to fit on the dog!
JG: What has been your greatest moment of artistic achievement?
CI: The time I won the Wray
& Nephew 'Spirit of Jamaica' competition. I could pay my school fees. I was spared starvation. I could buy clothes to wear. My situation was grim at that time: My most comfortable place to sleep was at the art school, on the printing tables or on the floor on a piece of card board, even though I had to wait until some persons whom I couldn't trust left the building. Sometimes I didn't get to sleep until after midnight. However, the work was owned by Wray & Nephew. When I went to borrow it for my final year show, I received it back in 11 pieces! It was kept in a junk room. A man used a forklift truck, one of those things that move boxes of drinks, to pick it up; he scooped it up and dropped it in the back of my truck saying: "Don't carry that ting back here!"
JG: What are your favourite materials?
CI: The material I love to use is junk, or recycled waste. My grandmother always say: "Weh nuh dead nuh dash way" (never give up on anything). Look at what I did with real roaches on 'Alleged Terrorist Detained'! I made these half-roach/half toy soldiers. Also, look at the dog tics on 'Ride on Atrocities'. At one time I had real rats on 'State of Emergency!' The smell worked well with it.
JG: What is your favourite work of Jamaican art? (or it could be any art)
CI: I am interested in Christopher Gonzales' 'Bob Marley' sculpture, but my interests change from moment to moment. It keeps changing. David Marchand, now his work really pulls me loose. His work has a lot of spirit, there are not many like him. He should be lecturing at Edna Manley College. And there is this man in Nigeria called 'The Junk Man', he has gone past the stage of madness. Marchand and the Junk Man put out these statements and you don't know what they mean at first, but there's something that grips you. It takes a long time to ask what it is. It lets the moment take you and take over your whole body.
JG: That sounds like you have an almost physical reaction to some art work.
CI: Yeah, it is like a movement without motion, something inside you that moves. They have a better understanding of life than most people. I should tell you my idol is Mutty Perkins.
JG: Why?
CI: He pulls your mind. I like that. The argument might seem stupid at first but he pulls you. He has the greatest mind I've ever experienced. If he was Prime Minister the United States of America would be borrowing from us.
JG: I think you are similar to Mr Perkins in some ways, something of a prophet: intelligent, funny, shouting at the city walls. Am I wrong?
CI: Sometimes I wonder: "Why is this man not my father?"
JG: Where is your favourite place in Jamaica? (or it could be elsewhere)
CI: My favourite place was a place in Annotto Bay. That was on a hill with an old stone building with a big tree hanging over it. I was living in front of an Anglican church near the railway. I would stand and admire the building and it was as if I was living there in some other life. I still go around and admire that house hoping that one day soon I would have my own.
So, not only a favourite place but a favourite time ...
The house never leave my mind.
JG: Matisse or Picasso?
CI: Not sure I don't really indulge myself in Matisse or Picasso but generally people associate me with Picasso.
JG: I can see why in some of your sculptures.
CI: Yeah, I can see why in some respects, but his bread was so buttered that he didn't have to worry about a lot of the things I am passionate about. I never really sit down and analyse an artist in that way.
JG: I see other connections too but do you think it is important to know about the work of other artists?
CI: I'm rebellious. It comes from my upbringing. I used to get flogged for things I didn't know anything about. Even when I was speaking the truth people didn't know what I was talking about. Only my great-grandmother believed my every word and so I never had cause to lie to her. When she died I became more aggressive and sceptical.
I became rebellious so I dealt with my own issues in my own way. I was watching my own upbringing so much. Remember, I never had a mother; she died when I was three years old. When I reached art school that cloud was still hanging over me. There was never enough time to worry about other artists, the art world is too wide anyway. There was too much to deal with. I was always on the edge: to get the next day's meal, deal with the abuse, the distasteful words ... You see, the first contact I had with reality was the death of my mother. And every day of my life it happened over and over.
JG: Your work seems to me ideally suited for public art, but most of it is so strong and unpleasant that it is hard to imagine it ever being commissioned for public works.
CI: Yeah, there are times when I'm doing the work that I feel sick to my stomach. It drives me nuts! If I wasn't an artist I'd probably be a suicide bomber. After I finish the work I go through severe depression. But I used to do some pretty-pretty murals at Gideon Educational Centre at Buff Bay. The money wasn't a lot but it satisfied a part of my life, especially working with the little children. I could have stayed there for most of the day listening to them talk. I think it was my greatest therapy. I remember a girl saying she wished I was her father. It made me cry.
JG: Cats or dogs?
CI: Dogs. I love to play with cats, but with dogs there are many shades of adversity. Also, they can be very loyal, more so than humans, which is a beautiful thing. They are so sincere and natural; sometimes they come running up to me at the gate, with their tails wagging, as if to say "Where were you man?" There was a little dog that came round my studio, she looked at me as if she wanted to talk to me, as if she was feeling my whole soul, as if she think I am lonely.
JG: Where do you see your work in five years (or less)?
CI: In some of the great
museums, in the halls of Amnesty International, in the halls of the United Nations and in the text books for literature, on stamps, money, and in books of fine art. I want to be recognised as an artist that stimulates individuals to achieve their highest potential and causes world leaders to adopt a new ideology.
JG: Is that all?
CI: I once carved my name on a tree saying that I had won a nobel prize!
