After years of quietly developing his style under the radar of the art world, painter Charming Baker has suddenly become one of the UK’s most popular and collectable artists. As he prepares for his Covent Garden exhibition this summer, supported by Sir Paul Smith, he talks to CGJ about success, integrity and why a nice picture of a fruit bowl is out of the question…
There’s nothing like a rags to riches story to warm the cockles. It’s a shame then that Charming Baker never really went through the whole rags phase before the riches finally arrived – instead he worked happily, if never especially lucratively, on his art for a good couple of decades before being rewarded for his maturing talent. But in a way, that makes his story even more heartwarming – in an era of the arts in which youth and newness are valued above all things, it is always reassuring to hear of an artist whose vision has been fertilised in the dark before being thrust fully formed into the limelight, especially one who works in so unfashionable a medium as paint on canvass.
Charming Baker was born and brought up in Ripon, north Yorkshire. He was christened Alan, but in Ripon everyone gets a nickname and Charming “had a reputation for being polite”. After leaving school at 15 and spending some time digging up roads, he was accepted onto a graphic design and illustration course at Central St Martin’s at the age of 21. In the decades since graduating he has been teaching part time, winning the occasional commercial commission, selling the odd painting, working from a studio in his garden and helping to raise his five children. A deeply unpretentious man, he has resolutely eschewed the shameless networking demanded by the gallery system, but without which his work always seemed destined to remain hidden from a wider audience. Then in 2006 an exhibition of his paintings was staged at the Truman Brewery on Brick Lane, and its success led to a steady burgeoning of his profile. Things began to really take off after Pat Magnarella, the manager of American rock band Green Day, was introduced to Charming’s work by one of his staff and decided to take a leap into the art world by taking over the promotion of this little known English painter. With the punch and chutzpah of a brash publicity machine behind him, the artist became a sensation in America, with thousands of New York hipsters flocking to his show, Stupid Has A New Hero. As his stock continues to rise on both sides of the water, Charming’s paintings now sell for prices that a few years ago would have seemed outrageous.
Damien Hirst and Sir Paul Smith are both enthusiastic collectors of his work, and it is as a brand ambassador for Paul Smith London that Charming finds himself in his fellow Yorkshireman’s Covent Garden fiefdom, with a major exhibition of his work running in the Mercer Street Studios in July. It is an unusual space – perfect for a man whose paintings have a strong streak of oddness running through them. “It used to be an old fruit warehouse and still has the old storage cellars underneath that smell faintly of bananas,” he says. “Not your usually gallery smell.”
There’s a queasy quality to your work – they’re beautiful paintings, but there’s always something a bit wrong going on in them. What’s all that about? Can’t you just do a nice fruit bowl or something?
I don’t see the world that way. There would have to be something a bit weird about the fruit for me to be interested. There’s something wrong about everything I paint and that’s me wanting to make people feel both engaged and discomforted. If it doesn’t stir something in you then it’s not really doing its job. As humans we are equally drawn to the brutal things in life as we are the beautiful. I think the paintings are about something slightly unhealthy in all of us. I am fascinated with the human condition. I like the contradiction in life – it’s a good way to push people’s buttons.
One of the striking things about your work is that, despite its edginess, I can imagine it hanging in my flat and making the room look really good. At a time when so much emphasis is placed on the ‘meaning’ of art, are you conscious of wanting your paintings to also be decorative?
My paintings are primarily meant to be decoration otherwise they’re pretty pointless. I want them to look nice on people’s walls, to go on and have a life of their own. The fact that they are now collected by some very serious people in the art world doesn’t change that. My paintings are very personal to me and each has a very definite reason to exist, but I think far too much emphasis is placed on explaining the meaning. Art is far too over-intellectualised. The art that needs explaining is art that hasn’t done its job. I think people are getting wise to that now, though. Buyers are less intimidated by art. And that’s a good thing.
You have enjoyed a fair bit of success in America. How was the experience, and what are your impressions of the country?
I love New York. There’s a real open-ness there and I met some great people. I love the energy, the attitude and their steak and eggs. My wife is from Lincoln in Nebraska, which isn’t the most exciting of places and even she’ll admit to that. But I remain very English at heart. I’m a Yorkshire lad and I always will be. I now live in London – which I love – but I still hold all those working class values close to me. I’d much rather drink in a pub than a VIP lounge.
Being promoted by an American music promoter sounds both hilarious and terrifying. How did it differ from the usual art exhibition experience?
I actively avoided the regular gallery system for a very long time. It felt alien to me. Since my success in New York last year I have been approached by several very big galleries and while they’re lovely people and it’s all very flattering, I’m just not ready for that yet. Truth is I have a great team around me now who I completely and utterly trust. I put on my own shows, sell to my some very serious collectors and am in love with what I do. Having all that gives me a direction and a confidence. The approach is very punk rock, but it seems to work. We have used the internet, promo videos and social networking to get the work known. This year I am even sponsoring a car in the Gumball Rally. Are you enjoying the surge in interest in your work? And does it help or hinder the creative process? Things have gone a little crazy this past year. I have more buyers than there are paintings which is great, but it wasn’t always like that. If anything, it frees me up as the less time I spend worrying about money the more time I can spend thinking about painting.
Have you changed in your attitudes and approach to art as you’ve got older? Are you glad that your success has come now rather than when you were very young?
My approach hasn’t changed but I’m a lot more comfortable with who I am as a person. I don’t feel the need to please anyone other than myself. I have five kids and spent many years bringing them up. Fatherhood is a great leveller. Until recently I had shed in the garden that I used to paint in, so I didn’t have to be too far from the house. Now I have a bigger studio just down the road, but I always make sure I’m back in time for tea with the family.
How do you prepare for an exhibition? Do you need the pressure of deadlines?
Deadlines are very sobering and focussing. I do tend to work up to the wire. There have been shows when I’ve been hanging paintings that are still wet. I’m getting better at it – they’re just slightly damp now.
With high-concept installation work dominating contemporary art galleries, were you ever tempted to give up on paint and start pickling sharks instead?
I’ve shot a few of my paintings with a shotgun. Not gratuitously, but because it was another way of creating a picture with something other than with a paintbrush. I’ve also started making sculptures. There are no sharks involved, but there is a badger.
Your aesthetic seems to have a lot in common with the best urban art, only done on canvas rather than East London railway bridges. Do you have an affinity with that whole scene?
I’m a fine artist and always have been. I like the sense of independence in the urban scene, but the nearest thing I got to street art was when I used to dig through skips to find pieces of wood to paint on.
Working with Sir Paul Smith, what are your impressions of the man?
Sir Paul is such a nice guy and he knows his art. I get to wear a lot of his suits now, so we’re both happy. I genuinely love what he does and how he does it. The fashion world can be painful place to be but he’s managed to avoid all that. He is such a nice man. There’s an affinity there. We’re both from Yorkshire and we both left school at 15 and both have a love of cycling. I think it’s something to do with being a northerner. You can never get too up your own end no matter how successful you are.
The sub-editor who lays out this article is almost guaranteed to succumb to the temptation to use a lazy pun on the word ‘charming’ for the headline. Any ideas for a headline that doesn’t go down the whole ‘This charming man’ route?
Can’t help you there I’m afraid.
