Paul Minott

Paul’s work has a playful and spontaneous feel to it, with bold colours and simple shapes. But don’t be fooled by its simplicity. Simple does not always equal easy.

A design consultant for over 30 years and a senior lecturer in historical and contextual studies at Bath Spa University, his wealth of experience, expert eye and bottomless pit of knowledge in art, design and history are key to making the hard look easy.

Each monoprint takes several hours to create and as the name suggests, only one print of each composition is ever made.

Why is ‘making’ important to you?

A lot of my time is taken up with teaching, and has been for many years now. The fruits of this work don’t appear immediately; it seems sometimes that so much time is devoted to giving, sharing, showing, writing, and planning with little back in return. Making something every week ensures that there’s at least one part of my life where there’s a clear product at the end of it. I go into the studio with only a vague notion of what to do, yet a few hours later there’s something which I’d never seen before. This feedback is extremely rewarding.

What or who inspires you?

The list would be too long, but I find myself drawn to a broadly Modernist aesthetic. I guess I carry a mental library of artworks, movements and people which pop up as I’m working. While I follow some contemporary practice online and in journals, I also try to avoid being directly influenced. While my professional life has been in graphic design, I was always equally inspired by abstraction, especially in painting and printmaking. I think there’s a vital and close relationship between typography and abstraction, something I’m always trying to teach.

How do you come up with your best ideas?

I think I work abstractly almost as a way of actually avoiding ‘ideas’; I try to get into a space which can’t be verbalised. So I play with pure geometric shapes and colour, sometimes using an iPad app I’ve adapted which correlates directly to the physical elements I arrange on the press. I find a successful print will generate a number of variants, either in colour or composition, which I’ll pursue over the course of further prints. There are times when I’m completely at a loss and have to start from scratch, but it’s only through play does one discover anything new. The key is to keep going, be led by process and allow for magic to happen.

What are you most proud of?

I guess the fact that I do keep going and that I’ve managed to develop a consistent work method which nourishes me. I think my training as a pedantic, type-based designer has been key to this; I’ve always had a strong work ethic, and can plug away at things for a long time. Selling work is rewarding of course, simply because it resonates with others…but I would make the work anyway.

How important is risk taking and failure? 

My printmaking method is quite high risk. Several hours of preparation go into making a single monotype, where colours have to be right, shapes have to be carefully inked and placed on the bed, the paper handling has to be gentle. The ingredients are simple: ink, oil, white spirit, damp paper, pressure…if any of these things aren’t quite right it becomes evident the moment the print is pulled. So risk is inherent in the process, there’s no ‘undo’ function and ink is unforgiving. Having just one chance to get something ‘right’ makes one think more carefully. Occasionally, a day’s work can be ruined at the last moment and while frustrating, it’s how we learn. Craft is really about doing the same things time and again. My complaint with much contemporary technological culture is it promises instant success and perfect results; it’s a dangerous illusion which leads to sameness and risk-aversion. I find students are particularly risk-averse as a consequence, which worries me.  

What do you enjoy most about making?

It’s a space I go into to forget about the pressures of teaching. It’s very selfish, but to have the chance to work completely in silence, with simple materials, and to be completely absorbed for a day is incredibly important for mental health. I’m always surprised by what I’ve made, as if someone else has made it. So much of ‘Paul Minott’ is a public performance, talking, lecturing, giving opinion etc. When I’m making prints, there’s this other guy I’m getting to know I suppose.

Best piece of advice you’ve received?

In Venice a couple of years ago, I saw this ‘note-to-self’ by Sean Scully. I think it’s about right:

‘Art doesn’t need to make sense or to function nor to demonstrate any particular idea. It testifies to the beauty of imperfect human thought and action, muddled up with feeling’.

What themes do you see emerging in the making world?

In a previous life, running a commercial design practice, I was rather sniffy about ‘craft’, associating it with a pastoral, backward tendency. But I now see a really vibrant making scene, particularly where people are combining the digital and the handmade. This is happening in printmaking a lot, and letterpress, where new wood fonts are being made for example. It’s great to see young people getting into it so much, and how their work is being shared so easily these days. There’s a lot of positive energy in making, and it seems makers enjoy sharing this energy. 

How do you keep it fresh?

I experiment all the time, always looking for new ways to make marks, making one’s own tools. I think a studio is a bit like a laboratory; you set up experiments simply to see what happens. Very little of this is discarded; in fact I’m now compiling boxes of these experiments as a different way of selling work at affordable prices.

Advice to your younger self?

What are you waiting for?

Paul Minott is represented by Modern Art Buyer