curtis tappenden

by james mannion

How did you get started as an artist?

I always used to have a pen or pencil in my hand, but I think it really starts at my nan’s house. We would go there every Saturday and she had lots of white paper bags in a cupboard and there was always a biro lying about because my granddad used to love crosswords. So I would retreat into a corner and, rather than watch the TV, I would draw as much as I could remember from the day – the shops we’d been into, the trains we’d been on, the parks we were in. Anything and everything. I was particularly drawn to graphic insignia so I would spend hours working on the logos for C&A or British Rail. I was probably a bit peculiar! Ha!

Whose work did you admire growing up?

Long before Disney became this world-spanning empire, I used to love picking up his ‘How To Draw’ books, which showed you how he created his characters. Then there were the Asterix books by Goscinny and Uderzo which were just beautiful and I also loved the work of Dr Seuss – his imagery, colour and writing were amazingly creative and experimental.

Who were your art heroes?

My primary school teacher, a man called David Clare who used to encourage us to do lots of creative things with writing and drawing which I loved. In fact, we’ve become great friends later in life. We recently went on a trip to Paris together to go around the galleries. He was amazed that I continue to draw as much as I did in his classroom. Then I went to a selective secondary school where art was bottom of the curriculum, submerged under all the core subjects, but even there I found a kindred spirit. The art teacher Will Fielder who had an earring when men didn’t wear them, and who also didn’t wear a tie like all the other teachers did. I just took to him immediately. A group of us would hide in his art studio and just draw and create. Finally, there was the head teacher at that secondary school – a man called Stan Gregory who was amazingly encouraging in all things. He sadly died recently in his 90s, and I had the honour of talking at his funeral. Later on I was drawn to the work of the Impressionists. Now they aren’t particularly avant-garde and are considered pretty middle of the road but they were really cutting edge. They were around during a time of great change in Paris in the late 1800s and they were drawing and painting really controversial subjects of the time like industrialism and women’s causes. Until that time, people hadn’t done that, so they were actually quite rebellious, and I think, even from that age, I kind of admired the artists on the margins.

Any advice you were given that you still stand by?

One tutor I had, Nick Tidnam, always said that any opportunity that comes your way – take it! It’s something I still stand by, and is something I tell the students I teach. That ‘can do’ spirit is very important. If you get offered work you say ‘yes’ and then figure out the predicament afterwards. It’s now a problem you’ve got to solve but it’s an opportunity to learn and grow. I call it the ‘recklessness of opportunity’. You inevitably work out how to do it -so your hope and belief are repaid – and then through practice and rehearsal you get good at it which gives you confidence and credibility.

And any you have ignored?

I’ve always rejected the naysayers. I still do. I was fortunate to have teachers who were working in the industry – who could therefore tell me the realities of what life was like as an artist – namely that it was very hard to get work. So I knew what I was getting into. That said I can still remember family members asking me when was I going to get a proper job?! I don’t listen to ‘nays’, it’s ‘yays’ all the way for me! It’s fair to say that I’m pretty single minded.

Is it important to have put in the hard yards – the fabled 10,000 hours to perfect your craft? To just do something every day, even if it’s not pertaining to a project or a paying gig, because it’s something that you are drawn to?

I think it is. It’s really tricky now in the instant, social media driven world to explain that to my students. I find myself having conversations with them as they have this belief in a TikTok kind of success, where you make an eight second video, become a hero and make lots of money on the back of it. I try to instead instil the value of hard work and rehearsing and refining your skills. It’s only as we practice that we improve. I would never advocate any other way really. It’s the same as a musician practicing their scales – it’s no different with a visual artist. It keeps the brain sharp and keeps building new neural pathways, enabling you to expand the possibilities and the capabilities of creative problem solving. For that reason, I try and write and draw every day, and I’ve got over 300 sketchbooks from a 33-year life to prove it!

What sacrifices did you make along the way?

It’s quite interesting, my son is a very good artist but he doesn’t want to follow in his father’s footsteps. When I asked him why, he said it’s because he has watched me staying up all hours and working when everyone else has gone to bed. As a freelancer – as most of us are – you have to find the time to work after the paid work is done. That’s a big sacrifice in terms of family moments missed. Hopefully those sacrifices pay off later in life though, when you gain an autonomy by getting paid to do what you love – but there’s no denying it’s hard at the times.

What work are you most proud of?

There are two things that stand out. Firstly, I’ve had four drawings exhibited at the Barbican. They were of The Special’s lead singer Terry Hall. I was delighted that the passions of my teenage years are still feeding my imagination some 40 plus years later. I never thought playing my Two-Tone records back in 1979 that it would lead to that! Then, more recently, I have been drawing live on stage at the Camden Roundhouse in front of 3500 people. I drew to a performance of Bach’s mass in B minor – which is two and a half hours long – as it was performed by the City of London Sinfonia Orchestra and Brighton Festival Chorus. That’s huge for me because it brings together the performative and the artistic into one fine collaboration. These are dream projects for me. This is the stuff 35 years ago, when I started at art school that I hoped I might get to do one day. I can’t believe I’m here now, but I am more excited about what comes next.