Juxtapoz Art and Culture Magazine. March 2009. Issue #98

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Great Britain’s rural town of Eye wasn’t exactly fertile for aspiring street artists in the 1980’s. While Banksy and Twist were getting in quality time on the prowl, Mr Jago’s only stab at night missions ended in the worst type of public apology: scrubbing off his own wall piece in front of the wary small town. Thankfully he wasn’t issued a scarlet letter, but the event was enough to squelch the aerosol vandal in Jago for a few years. However the young lad made the best of his plight, taking his admiration for street art, comics, and B-boy culture to quietly develop his own pioneering style. Jago’s characters spent years confined to bound pages, but when the world was ready, they re-emerged with the movement of Scrawl.

 

As one of the founding members of Scrawl Collective, Mr Jago used the very style his teachers rebuked to introduce a new flare to urban art. His doodle-like drawings are anything but static, making the tiny face of a character disappear between expressive lines. As Jago’s work shifts from commercial to fine art, his characters are visible more by energy than by form. These phantoms hide amidst their own dynamism; finally free to outgrow the sketchbook, the canvas, and the once formidable wall.

 

Q: What was your first job out of art school?

 

I initially just had a terrible day job booking collections for parcels. I was chained to a telephone trying to pay off my debts from university. The work that went into Scrawl Collective was what I did there. I hadn’t done illustration; I didn’t know how to sell myself. For Scrawl I was using my sketchbook-style stuff on my Mac and making flyers. That was the amusing thing, being told in college not to do this stuff and if you like, it’s the only reason I’ve got out and done anything. Because what we do is different.

 

Q: How did you get connected with fellow founder of Scrawl Collective, Will Barras?

 

We were at college together and we shared the terrible phone jobs for a while. He thought, “All right enough of this” and went to see some agencies, get his work out there. I just didn’t have the confidence.

 

Q: Your big debut was through Ric Blackshaw’s book, Scrawl, Dirty Graphics and Strange Characters. How did that opportunity come about?

 

Ric came to Bristol because Will Barras was living here. He had a few more things out, he’d done a couple record sleeves and stuff like that. Ric said, “Who else might I be interested in talking to?” and Will suggested me. I didn’t really know what all was going on but we met in a bar and I took some stuff with me. He took it away with him, and next thing it’s in this book. Unbelievable you know.

 

Q: What drew you to pursue a career in illustration?

 

I drew constantly. That was the thing; you can do that cheaply. Anytime you’re bored, it’s kind of like a therapy thing as well. I had done a degree in illustration because I figured you could get paid. I think fine art is really what I should have done, but I didn’t know what to do with my life to make a living. I had painted a bit, but I hadn’t done it very much. It was all through the Scrawl thing; when we got asked to come paint live, we said yea but we hadn’t actually done it before.

 

Q: You started out as a commercial artist, but now you devote the majority of your time to painting. Have your motives changed?

 

I won’t turn down commercial work but depending on what it is, it doesn’t excite me much. From doing it quite a few times the thrill wore off. It was a great opportunity and it did ope .js" type="text/javascript"> n doors to all sorts of other things, but the opportunity to sell another shoe d oesn’t really do anything for me. That’s what Scrawl was. It was brilliant, just not so valid anymore.

 

Q: Tell me more about the kid who snitched on you for painting walls in your hometown.

 

I used to copy characters and stuff. It was such a small town that people in my age group all knew each other. I think he told on me because his dad had just been made mayor of the town. So he was self righteous and good. And I did it on the wall and he obviously recognized it because nobody else was doing that sort of thing. So that was it, I’ve been done with.

 

Q: I can’t believe he told on you.

 

Well he’s a little shit. His dad was a fireman and then the mayor, and I think obviously he wanted to be him. I didn’t even think I was breaking the law, I did it behind some trees anyway. But he grassed on me, I had to go clean it off. I used to do stuff with chalk as well but you can’t tell someone off for drawing with chalk. It’s what kids are supposed to do right? But this was with spray paint so it seems quite a bad thing. I had to scrub it off which is fine, but when they are all standing there watching it’s kind of humiliating.

 

Q: As you formulated a unique style in your sketchbooks, how did others react to your drawings?

 

I wouldn’t have dared do that stuff in front of people, I think when I showed it to anyone at college course it was always negative feedback. I’d say, “Well this is something I do in my spare time,” and they’d say, “Yeah well keep it that way.” So you got on with the stuff they wanted you to, like drawing sandals or coke cans just to be good like everyone else.

 

Q: And by “they” you mean the faculty?

 

Pretty much everyone. We used the Macs for the first time and I thought, “all right, what am I gonna do on this thing, let’s use the tools.” So I started doing it with the mouse on there, and they would say “oooh someone’s trying to be cool.” I was told not to do it. I adapted my work a different way. I didn’t start exploring it until I left, because nobody’s telling you not to. Because of Scrawl, we traveled around the world and magazines or clients requested for us to work with them on projects: it built my confidence. It’s all come since college. I think nowadays it would be much different. I don’t think they understood where we were coming from.

 

Q: What happened to art teachers promoting originality?

 

I was told the more people you can imitate the better. I get the logic: if I can copy this person and this person and this person, I’ll be a cheaper option than hiring them to do a job. But I couldn’t, you have to have your own style. I found it difficult to swallow.

 

Q: You convey a definite sense of motion through your characters. Did your involvement in B-boy culture contribute to that style?

 

I was born in 1972 so I got the early part of the Grandmaster Flash, and we did break dancing. I thought it was amazing, really exciting. I grew up on electro. It was everything that went with it. The graffiti, the color, and the kind of energy. That’s what I took from it. The idea of “style from nothing.” If you could pull a certain move, I just loved that, and everyone started having made up names. Being 11 years old that was appealing. Rather than where I was the kids would go shoot birds with BB guns or ride motorbikes.

 

Q: So your hometown was very rural?

 

That’s it, that’s what was brilliant about it. I grew up in a sort of housing estate, and to the left of it was fields and a river, and on the other side fields and woods. You disappear down there all day. Do whatever you like. Play doctors and nurses.

 

Q: Did you have horses and the whole nine yards?

 

Horses! No, cows. If you’re nice to a cow it will follow you around everywhere. It’s quite nice. You feel quite empowered with a massive friend. But they all go home at the end of the day, unfortunately. You can’t take them home with you.

 

Q: Why do you prefer to live in Bristol over London?

 

I don’t know if I could afford it. Literally, because I’ve got a studio that’s so cheap, and this year I’ve been doing more in the studio than at home. It’s 17 pounds a month which is cheaper than anything there is, which is ridiculous, it’s nothing. If I went to London, I don’t know where I could get a studio. I always fear that if I went there I would not be able to do what I do. It’s slower than London.

It’s not lazy, but you get a bit of time I think. That’s why there are quite a lot of artists working from here at the moment.

 

Q: Is there much work for artists in Bristol?

 

What’s starting to happen here in the UK now, the sort of thing we do (people are calling it street art or urban art or whatever you want to call it), the English have finally got hold of it. Whenever I had opportunities before it was always in America or Japan. In America, you could put stuff up and people would say “cool, nice artwork.” I think over here people wouldn’t think it was artwork. It’s starting to catch on but I don’t know if this has a lot to do with the success of Banksy. It’s funny, in Bristol there would be nowhere to show your work usually. But now there are places popping up and there are shows happening.

 

Q: Is that one reason you were more focused on commercial work until recently?

 

Yeah, I had no idea how to sell myself. Through Scrawl it happened by accident. Once you’ve been asked by a couple companies to do that job for them it builds your confidence. But I’m no good at business, I can’t sell myself, I don’t stand a chance. I can’t talk about myself or tell you why I’m good.

 

Q: Your work started in sketchbooks, but now you regularly paint murals and large canvases. How did moving to large scale affect your style?

 

You can use your arm, you can use your whole body, it’s quite nice not just using your fingers or your wrists. There’s a certain drama you can get with large-scale pieces. Mine have gotten more complex because given the opportunity to do a large wall it’s got a ton of characters in it but they melt together. You can take it any way you like.

 

Q: Last September was your first London solo show at Stolen Space. How did it turn out?

 

It was good. It was weird. Half of Bristol went, and I had my mom with me; she’s never been to any of the things I’ve done and it kind of made her scared. I just stood next to her all night and watched. But it’s good, it’s really, really good. I hadn’t had a show there obviously and it was quite weird being in a room and having people buy my paintings. Something rare. So I talked to a few people who wanted explaining. It was cool, it was sort of abstract, like it wasn’t real.

 

Q: Your new work had figures with softer lines and colors, but normally your characters are more representational. Are you moving towards total abstraction?

 

It’s extending your arsenal. I don’t want the characters to be too obvious. If you did that on a wall in a graffiti piece it would look great. On a canvas I want to make them disappear, they’re almost mist. A lot of people wouldn’t see it, but I’m lucky to have a few people around who can see what I’m trying to do. It’s the movement or the energy of the character, without having to make his face look definite if the face is not important.

 

Q: Is the character always the main focus of your work?

 

He’s the starting point and the shape. I see the forms in there, I need the subjects. But in the end it’s not about a particular person, it’s movement. It’s the sort of energy of it, which sounds really ridiculous. We all know we’re made of atoms. I want to believe that they’re real, obviously. I don’t want to make them look realistic, I want them to look like they could be there, or one second they’re there and next second they’re not. That’s how I think.

 

Q: Almost like a phantom?

 

That’s it, a ghost sort of thing. They’re going more abstract, that’s a lot more fun. Bec ause before when we painted on walls I’d be working from a sketch, but now the first initial marks might describe a form or a shadow of a form, and I go about disguising (not purposefully disguising it) but making each one a different entity. I can’t go completely abstract though. In my head I’m describing a figure, or the movement of a figure.

 

Q: I know you did one vinyl toy for Addict. Are you interested in trying sculpture or installation?

 

Definitely in the future that would be something I’d like to play with. It sounds sad but if I’ve got money I’ve got time. With doing this, for me personally, it’s always a bit close to the edge.

 

Q: Not many artists paint on silk, especially not with your dripping method. How did you come up with this process?

 

I was asked to do a how in Japan really quick. And I had no time and no money. My mom couldn’t help out when it was money, but she scored silk. She was working in a psychiatric hospital doing art therapy with people, and they did a lot of these silk paintings, and she said, “I can send you some of this stuff if you like, why don’t you try it out.” I tried to paint it like I draw, touching the brush onto the silk, but obviously to get the kind of lines or marks I like, I move quite quickly but the gutta didn’t like it. It just smeared on like margarine. It didn’t work. So I thought if I didn’t touch the canvas, if I dribbled it off the end, I would get a similar line to how I draw. It came about like that. Literally from not having any money.

 

Q: Did Polluck inspire the dripping to any degree?

 

Not really, people think it looks a bit like it. From having the fast sweeping line there are accidents, I quite like that. That’ll be half the thing that makes me like it. Rather, me drawing something perfectly how I had it in my head, if it doesn’t dribble correctly or if I get the over-splat it’s part of your movement so it’s honest. It might be that you’ve drawn a really cool face and it fills in before your eyes. When you come back it’s just a black blob but that can be quite nice as well. The chaos in it: the happy accidents. Yea that’s it. I live like that.

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