7th August 2013, (standard) Interview
Can you briefly describe what you do?
I paint abstractly, on modestly sized pieces of board, I use unconventional materials to quickly make works that fit somewhere between hard edge and expressive abstraction.
What drives you to make work?
It's the most enjoyable activity I do. It's challenging, and it's very rewarding when people get what you are trying to do.
Can you tell me something of your day-to-day working practices?
I get to the studio early and begin by looking at works made at my last visit, I start trying to make them better, maybe cutting them up and re-gluing them back together in an alternative configuration, or just spray painting over the whole thing and starting again.
When the work interests me enough, I stop playing with it and put it away.
Sometimes it's a fast process and the painting's surface will be flat, other times they are very layered and have gone through many transformations before they achieve any sort of quality.
I generally have no idea how a painting is going to look finished when I start it.
I work on multiple pieces at the same time, so aesthetics will be shared among a certain grouping and then fade away when I have a new idea, or get bored with a mood.
I leave the studio if I can't get into a productive mindset.
About a quarter of my creative time is spent sourcing materials. I mainly use cheap things like tape, marker pens, paper, household paints or found junk, so I'm always on the look out for something new to work with.
How long have you been working in that way?
I started working with the materials I now use, about two years ago when I didn't have a studio. I worked at home so the pieces had to be small and fairly tidy. I made a decision to work as cheaply and as quickly as possible because I felt pretty disillusioned with the amount of money and effort I had previously expended, compared to the results of my labour.
2010, Issue 24, The Hospital Club
Dominic Beattie was born in Camberwell, London in 1981.
He graduated from Camberwell College of Arts with a First Class Honours degree in 2003 and has since worked as a visual artist and illustrator.
Dominic recently exhibited a series of nine new works at The Hospital Club in Covent Garden for his first solo exhibition. He has previously exhibited in numerous group shows and art fairs around London and has had illustrations published
in leading music magazines, including Artrocker and The Wire.
Dominicâ€™s recent body of work has been successfully embraced by its audience, and key pieces have been acquired by a series of collectors, most notably, Charles Saatchi.
Dominicâ€™s visually arresting graphic style is a meld of long held interests and learnt techniques.
His interest in pop sensibilities, underground comix and tribal imagery, are apparent in his dynamic drawings. He attempts to create an intense visual experience through the simple use of bold block colour and rhythmic outlines.
Dominic welcomes enquiries about his artwork or potential commissions.
PLEASE DRIVE SLOWLY THROUGH OUR VILLAGE
Oct 2011, By Rebecca Geldard, Art Review
The exhibitionâ€™s soup could be easily reduced to include these three and Dominic Beattieâ€™s canvases, his Pop-style undoing of minimal paintingâ€™s hard-edged heroics well suited to the mix. In one illusory composition the grid has become a potato waffle, punctured improbably by a straight, grey length of something.
The pithy nature of this groupâ€™s handling of form and function doesnâ€™t do any favours for the subtle folkloric sensibilities of neighbouring works â€“ positioning them, unfairly perhaps, as the straight-man in the joke. Annabel Elgarâ€™s large-scale photo of a cabin interior, featuring a curious bread sculpture, appears more charmingly than eerily uncanny when viewed in tandem with the dough castle itself. Caught between the implied narrative and staging of the image, one is left questioning the validity of both. While curator Simon Willemsâ€™s narrative (about a German hermit who became unwittingly famous in death) is intriguing, the accompanying paintings appear the anecdotal visualisations of it. Angie Hicks, however, gets the municipal/cult, functional/obsolete object-balance just right Her slight yet violent slo-mo film, which describes the pretty, if meaningless, destruction of a useless object â€“ a plaster cast of a clothes iron â€“ gives gaseous form to the question: â€˜Whatâ€™s the point of art?â€™ Itâ€™s a thought that continues to circulate the room like a silent but potentially deadly fart.