Following the opening of a new exhibition at Millennium Gallery, Exposed spoke to celebrated printmaker James Green about his career, creative methods and an enduring fascination with donkeys.
When did you first discover your artistic side?
I’ve always been into art. When I was a kid, something I really liked was drawing superheroes and footballers and all other sorts of stuff.
Which superheroes and footballers in particular?
In terms of superheroes, Batman and Spiderman mostly. I’m from Birmingham and my football team was Aston Villa, so I’d draw anything to do with them. This was the 80s when they were quite good, so we’re probably talking about players like Peter Withe and Dennis Mortimer.
And how did that early passion develop?
I loved drawing and art all the way through school. I eventually came to Sheffield in 1992 to study Fine Art at Sheffield Hallam.
A very different type of city back then, I’d imagine? What sort of place was it for an aspiring artist?
It was fun. I don’t want to sound down on the place, but it was certainly a different city to what is now – a bit more ramshackle, maybe a bit more chaotic. I suppose I didn’t really know what I really wanted to do then. Like a lot of people studying art, you’re just trying different things out.
So, I had a good time. But when I finished, I still didn’t really know what I was doing. I’m not sure I really knew what an artist did. And this is all pre-internet, so getting your name out there was a very different thing back then. It was literally having to send slides or photographs to galleries you’d never heard of before in London. I had one exhibition and then after that, I kind of thought maybe that was it and I should do something else.
With your art career seemingly sidelined, what was next for you?
I bought an Apple Mac and learned how to use Photoshop and Illustrator. I eventually started to get some freelance work and then for a short while I became a graphic designer. I enjoyed it to an extent, but I still felt rather unfocused and the commercial side of it didn’t excite me. Although I did make some artwork for small record labels, which was interesting and allowed me some creativity.
When did the move into printmaking come about?
I’d decided to get a “proper job” and worked in admin, first at Leeds University and then Sheffield University. While I was working at the University of Sheffield, someone lent me some linocut tools and equipment and I basically had a go at making a lino print of my cat. It really wasn’t a brilliant print, but I found the process fascinating and wanted to do some more of it. I started to spend more of my spare time making linocuts, not really thinking that anyone else would see them. I think the first one I did for others to see was a Christmas card for family and friends.
What was it that appealed to you about the medium of lino printing?
I suppose in some ways the limitations of linocut I quite liked. You’re generally limited in the amount of colours you can use, especially when you’ve just started. I don’t tend to use any more than three or four colours in a print, and usually it’s one or two. It made me think differently about composition. I think you’re also somewhat limited in terms of the level of detail you can get into a print, so you make somewhat bolder work that stands out. I’ve always been drawn towards stark, bold graphic work. I also loved and still love the craft of carving lino. It is immensely therapeutic.
Of course, the humble donkey has become a mainstay of your work over the years, and this has formed the foundations for your current exhibition. When did donkeys first enter the picture and why have they remained?
Around 2008 I simply decided to do a print featuring some donkeys, just because I thought they were interesting creatures. I felt like they were a bit undervalued. You know, across the history of art, donkeys have never really been the focus of atention. They’re always in the background, usually carrying something or whatever. And I thought, ‘No, I’m going to try and change this and celebrate the donkey. I think they’re cool.’
What was the first donkey print called?
‘Donkeys Disturbed by Meteor Shower’. It’s a bit of a daft title, but I just tried to imagine what it would be like if some donkeys were in the meteor shower, what they would do. Maybe they would just ignore it and just go, ‘Okay, we’re just going to get on with what we’re doing.’ There’s a certain perceived awkwardness to them, which I quite like. I’m not sure if it’s a real awkwardness and we’re just transferring human emotions to them. But either way, I quite like that.
So, that just seemed to set a bit of a path. And I thought, well, this is really interesting. I’m going to make some more pictures of donkeys. And the donkey adventures have just seemed to roll on ever since.
And here we are with your exhibition, Donkey Nonsense, running at Millennium Galleries until October. Can you tell us a bit more about that?
It’s a mix of old and new work. Part of it is a retrospective from 2008 until now, but I’ve created seven new pieces for the exhibition as well, which are a series of exclusive prints called The Donkey Monoliths. They’re linocuts and screenprints of donkeys exploring these weird landscapes, which I actually made out of plasticine because I’m really into abstract sculpture – you know, Barbara Hepworth, Henry Moore, stuff like that. However, I’m not a sculptor, so I made them out of plasticine. I made the sculptures, photographed them, and then made the prints from there.
What advice would you give to any aspiring artists out there?
I’ve always thought that it’s very important to just try and be yourself and not follow a trend. Because if you do follow a trend, you’re just going to get bored, because it’s not really your thing. You’re never going to be completely passionate about something that hasn’t really come from you.
Donkey Nonsense, an exhibition by Sheffield-based printmaker James Green, is at the Millennium Gallery until October 8. Free entry.
