Last night Stuart's best friends Gabhan and George popped over for a late night banoffee pie, green tea and a gossip about colour combos. If anybody knows about what goes with what, where and how, it has to be these guys; their Sketch interior project alone is testament to this. If you'd ever been in Sketch you'll know what I mean, each and every detail has been touched with their exquiste and eccentric style. This lust for inventive and exotic decor extends into the home of the creators; Gabhan is tearing up the whole floor of his house to replace the perfectly delightful wood with a unique pattern of yellow and grey marble that he discovered recently in a remote mountain village in Italy...Bare feet on cool marble, it must feel good.

At the moment however, there is just a floorless region of chaos, the heating system gouged out, the buildings inards exposed. Until the disruption has ended any queries are meet with eye rolling resignation "We don't care anymore, we just want a floor!"

Labels: studio

Michael Gill from Art Review dropped in today; he was very enthused about the space and location. Over a glass of water (he is trying to stop drinking coffee) we talked about the revamped Art Review magazine. It’s looking really hot now; on the front cover is an astonishingly candid photograph of Hans Ulrich Obrist by Juergen Teller; apparently it caused quite a stir at Art Basel. People would react in a real love/hate way, decrying Obrist for his arrogance or snatching the magazine hungrily to know what the man has to say.

As Michael explained the new plans for the magazine in his warm Australian accent it became obvious that the energy of reinvention that has consumed Art Review mirrors the explosive enthusiasm here in the industry; we had a great deal to discuss. We could see that Art Review want to be closer to the blood and guts of the art world, that they sought rawer; more unusual perspectives. As we detailed the ideas behind AYCE.TV, the new fashion projects and Stuart’s creation of a Warholian working environment, it became clear that something clicked between us.

There is something crackling in the air.

We left the meeting inspired and poured through the publication enjoying the new design (award winning graphics group Spin have really excelled themselves) and editorial focus. It’s been a long time coming but it feels like people are really beginning to appreciate and buzz about Stuart’s unique practice and idiosyncratic way of working. I guess timing is everything.

Labels: studio

25 Year Old Artist beats Hirst and Emin in new art royalties law.


The young British Artist, Stuart Semple, 25, is set to receive the largest single payment to a living artist under new government legislation. Of all the living artists in the UK, some of which are incredibly famous and wealthy, Stuart Semple will receive the largest single payment. The scheme was intended to help young artists and it seems to have worked. The new law states that artists are entitled to a percentage of the resale value of their paintings, Stuart is set to receive the largest payment due to the rocketing value of his works.

DACS have campaigned for over ten years for droit de suite (as it is internationally known) on behalf of UK artists, to receive a royalty payment whenever their works are resold on the secondary market. Much like the royalties musicians currently receive. Stuart Semple is delighted to be one of the first to benefit. DACS, the Design and Artists Copyright Society closely monitor sales of art works that take place, not just throughout the UK, but also overseas. Ensuring that from 14th February 2006 living artists are legally entitled to receive a resale royalty each time their work is resold by, or to an art market professional.

Speaking after his notification of the payment by DACS, who contacted him personally as his enumeration was so considerable; Stuart was pleased to see that the scheme had finally come in effect:

“It’s lovely to think that the creator of the art object will be remembered once the work makes it out into the market place. Quite often the passion and creative sprit that is incumbent in a works creation is lost in the market. I see the royalty as a way of recognizing the talent that has enabled that piece to escalate in value.”

Labels: dacs

I don’t know what happened at the weekend, I wasn’t there, but judging by the pictures it looks like fun.

*Model....Clare Elizabeth.

Labels: Studio Photos

Carlo and David Easy Jetted down from Scotland today and joined Stuart and I for dinner. The boys adjusted their travel ruffled, but still incredibly sharp suits and sat down to discuss the weird worlds of boarding school, delayed budget flights and Tracy Emin. At eighteen Carlo is rather young for an art collector, but then since his father has the biggest private collection of contemporary art in Italy, I’m sure he couldn’t help but pick up a few tips. Apparently he sleeps beneath a Basquiat and has a Warhol at the foot of his bed, that’s great company, great dreams perhaps.

David described a very frustrating journey with an outsized picture that was too delicate to be transported in the hold, but the cabin crew would not allow it to be classified as hand luggage. After several heated arguments, the plane being held up and a wasted journey to buy two more seats to put the painting on (a last resort) the work was finally stowed in the hold under special supervision. Then Carlo had it couriered and it broke in transit!

After our chat Carlo bounded through the studio pointing at the furnishings and demanding to know how and why they all got there, his curiosity was well and truly pricked by SSIs inner workings. “But! Where is the work!” he quizzed again and again, wanting to see some of Stuart’s paintings. It’s all gone, we apologised. It is all sold out! After a stroll along the canal we stopped off in Angel to eat; the meal was very good. The boys had steaks. During our feast we paused for stilted conversations about love affairs; Carlo kept his passions to himself. We heard the story of a young prince who had gone missing from the boarding school after an indiscretion. After an argument about paying £1.50 for the bus to Piccadilly the heirs to unimaginable wealth were gone.

Labels: studio

High achievers are weird.

They can have extraordinary talents, yet sometimes be alluded by mundane day-to-day stuff. Stuart has a problem remembering his bank card. He left his business card at Sainsbury’s Deli counter the other day and today his Personal card was left at the studio when he made a trip out to see his sister. I had to get it biked to him in some Godforsaken part of Waterloo. Psych!

Labels: stuart semple

Stuart’s good friend Rebecca Loos was celebrating her birthday today.

I was really excited about meeting her but quite apprehensive about the frenzy that would surround the event. She had made plans last minute and given little detail so to avoid attracting unnecessary attention to the party. I had been away at the weekend and returning that night my train had been delayed mid journey, so I was running late. Stuart arrived before me and was caught in the full glare of the paparazzi flash bulb explosion. I was worried about all this invasive attention being uncomfortable for him, but when I finally managed to get to the venue he was in extremely high spirits. I’d expected something showier; a large, slightly awkward and uncomfortable affair like other showbiz parties I’d been to. Refreshingly Rebecca had arranged an intimate gathering of about 30 or so good friends. We watched her swish around the room chatting to everybody, looking incredibly sexy in a tight black dress.

One of the omitted party details was that it was a karaoke party; the champers was flowing and soon everybody wanted to be on the mike. Highlights included a sassy rendition of “You Take my Breath Away” and a suggestive reworking of “The Power of Love” by Emma Basden. Suddenly the atmosphere turned very dark; Rebecca couldn’t find her Nokia. Considering that part of her infamy had resulted from some very saucy text messages she was understandably quite upset. We checked everywhere, but it had been turned off; a thief was suspected. It failed to materialise. Bottles of Absolut arrived at the tables and soon the phone threat had been put to the back of everybody’s mind. To get the party going again Rebecca took the mike spiritedly and crooned through a few big numbers. She is posing for a portrait soon; I think it will be fun. We left early and parted company in Soho. Stuart went to continue business; I drifted into another party.

Stuart managed to finish the London Fashion Week artwork just in time; the ink on the prints was still drying as the package was bundled into the courier’s hand. The TV launch was arranged to happen on the same day as the launch party. So two huge and important deadlines hung over the studio. We worked like bitches. Last minute edits, encoding, party props and phone calls had to be done; not to mention all the usual business. It was exhausting and the weather was still torturously hot. Expectations were high and the press interest was considerable; Zakiya became a fixture at my desk, earphones inserted, a frown of concentration permanently in place.Jim and Nigel brought over a stack of busted TV’s and computer monitors and we sprayed them with AYCE and antagonistic MTV logos. He also brought his very cute West Highland Terrier, Daisy.



Daisy ran around the studio floor sticking her wet nose into every nook, examining the bins, sniffing Wilco’s tank. We need a dog, we thought, watching her run about and cause chaos. Stuart is musing on the idea of getting a Pug and calling it Mao. I hope he does. The TV launch and party went extremely well, we were too trashed to think too hard about it the next day; Stuart had been awake all night overseeing the first broadcasts, I had been with Jim holding the fort at AYCE the party. When the dust finally settled we could see it had been worth it.



















www.ayce.tv

Labels: studio, video

Naomi arrived in traditional Skinhead inspired garb, a pair of brogues and skinny fit Union Jack Tee, if she weren’t so adorable she would have looked pretty threatening. We sprayed the MTV logo onto three TVs and stacked them outside. Settling for a standard hammer and lamenting the lack of serious firepower we tooled Naomi up and talked her through the scene. MTV first aired in 1981 with the words "Ladies and gentlemen, rock and roll!" Stuart and I were still babies. We’ve watched it mutate into an uncompromising corporate monster, defining youth, talent and musicality for over two decades. They stopped showing us stuff and started telling us stuff; now mostly they sell stuff to us. I have no idea how to get on or be involved with MTV, which is partially why AYCE TV exists. All the good shows and videos and idents have gone. Whatever.

So Naomi (BomBom Suicide) smashes those tired old screens to bits. It’s war. Whilst all this destruction was going on Stuart was inside painting; he’d been requested to design a bag for the goodies at London Fashion Week. This collaborative project with supreme bag designer Jas M B was a new commission only finalised that day. The Fashion Council gave Stuart a deadline that left him less then 24 hours to come up with a design…Brutal. We would have to send his artwork by courier the next day.

Labels: video

There has been a lot of fashion business passing through SSI recently. Today Stuart visited the Jas M B factory to discuss a limited edition handbag project. It was surreal. He sent me pictures he’d taken of piles and piles of luxurious leather strips, straps and samples and cool Japanese girls attacking things with scissors…!

One hectic industrious scene.

Today we went to a big, well known company. There was a lot of exposed brickwork and a signed Gorillaz poster on the wall, the staff were young and dynamic and everything looked the part. Stuart is the most successful artist of his generation; he is also very young. It felt weird looking at people maybe two, three years older than us who were totally formal and unflappable. For a while it felt pretty awkward; we weren’t speaking the same language. They never asked what Stuart wanted, they just told us about systems, and how they usually did things.

Everything about Stuart’s practice is extraordinary; it is not going to easily adapt to conventional methods, if at all. Somehow we reached an understanding and although the connection wasn’t immediate Stuart was impressed by their professionalism and focus. It was an important day.

Labels: stuart semple

Today was killer. There was no time at all to do anything, it was also ridiculously hot. A BIG IMPORTANT MEETING loomed and Stuart and I pored through endless clippings and figures to prepare. We nailed it just as Jim Warboy and then Zakiya arrived to work on the TV station. Zakiya has new and impressive hair, she looks great in shorts; she definitely thrives in the warm weather. Jim however was not happy about having to wear his sandals. Apparently the tube system had gone into meltdown because of the heat, people were passing out all over the place. That made me think I should be carrying my camera more. We watched some raw footage we had gathered from previous weeks; there was a five second fragment of me passed out on the pavement with my skirt snagged up to my waist. Saturday had been wild.

Halfway through the session Stuart began to jump up and down and insist that I come outside and look at something. He led me to the studio three doors down and demanded I peek; A life size gimp prop in full fetish regalia could be seen through a crack in the curtains, in front of him a king size bed. Crazy fantasy ensued; what goes on behind those heavy drapes? What kind of high-class sleaze? There is something strangely comforting about knowing that a few metres from where we sit all manner of bizarre and lurid acts are occurring; productivity and sex. Flesh and product, the simplicity is alluring, it’s a business that everybody can comprehend.

Zakiya concentrates.

We wrapped up the TV session and began to chat; everybody retired upstairs to get something to eat. Tired and distracted Stuart put his dinner on (dinner is a big thing in the Industry, but that’s another story) and we began to mull over the days activity. The cooking food, in the new and slightly temperamental oven began to burn. By the time we realised there was a considerable amount of smoke, Stuart dived for the oven door and a plume was let loose. Almost simultaneously we all glanced upwards towards the large, red and very smoke shrouded alarm. Shit.

Arrrrrrrrrrrrahhhhhh arrrrrrrrrrrrrrrahhhhhh arrrrrrrrrrrrrrrahhhhhhh.

The sound in the studio was worryingly polite, but outside the alarm shrieked with hideous volume. People started to mill around outside shouting about where the fire might be; we had no idea what to do to stop the noise. There was a sudden crash downstairs, the studio doors had been thrown open. A very flushed and irate looking woman in a bathrobe had burst in. “I am so angry, I just had to end a call to a friend in crisis!” Dumbfounded by her aggression and near nudity we all stared blankly at her from the upper floor. As she continued to vent Stuart became very distressed and sheltered at the back of the kitchen; Jim marched downstairs to stop her and to block the stairway. Her annoyance was understandable, but she was extremely rude and seemed to think that we had burnt the food for fun “next time, just use your heads!” Jim edged her towards the entrance and eventually she was outside. He quickly secured the doors behind her. Welcome to the neighbourhood.

Labels: studio

Martin Summers is dapper. He has a great tan. He talks with an impeccable English accent and arrives on a scooter. Martin is an art dealer and he sells Stuart’s work. Today we had lunch with him (we all ordered a plate of tarted up fish and chips) and talked about bikini-clad nymphs appearing in his office, Tara Summers - his daughter of whom he is exceptionally proud - and of course painting.

Tara is starring in a new movie about the life of Warhol Factory star Edie Sedgwick. By most accounts Edie was a tragic figure, so her life should be material for a gripping movie. Tara Summers is also going to be starring in a movie about women who become addicted to their rampant rabbit vibrators. Sounds fun. Carri gave us a disk with her graphics today; we were blown away. Carri has such a unique vision; she operates with some weird internal logic that spews out a whole universe of creatures, ideas and palettes that relate to each other via her distinct perspective. Carri’s world is exaggerated and exotic, I’d like to live there, in all that colour.

Labels: studio, Studio Photos

We had been watching them pass our window for several days before I finally concocted an excuse just to walk round and find out exactly what it was they did. Hurried leggy blondes, heavyset guys humping huge boxes that trailed esoteric wires, a cast of hundreds had been streaming into the office next door; it was perplexing. What kind of business needed all these people and this weird paraphernalia?

This was just one of many mysteries that distracted Stuart and I as we constructed a monstrous pile of Ikea self assembly furniture. The new studio had needed three trolleys worth of stuff with names we couldn’t pronounce (apart from Erik the filing cabinet). Stuff that if the instructions were correctly followed required inhumanly dextrous, toddler sized fingers to effectively assemble. Ikea World is a godless place; correction, there is one deity, the allen key; its wrath is knuckle crunching. Soon the floor is covered in instruction manuals sporting vaguely suggestive illustrations of people who are joyously hammering MDF into happy home dreams. Needless to say we eventually cocked it all up.

We had bravely gotten through several large items…Bookcases, chairs, a metal trolley. The wardrobe, with its slide rails, mirrors, and millions of tiny oddly shaped widgets, gadgets, fidgets and twistits just freaked us out. We couldn’t get the doors on. Stuart remained his even-tempered jovial self. I wanted to throw it all out of the window; then set fire to it. Its gaping door less front mocked us for two full days before Neef just fixed it.

She just put them on.

Labels: studio