NIGEL MILSOM | An Intimate Chat

The invitation to interview Nigel Milsom comes very late on a Tuesday night. I hesitate. It’s late & I haven’t prepared. But Nigel tells me that after tomorrow he doesn’t want to do any more interviews. He needs to get back to his work. He reassures me that ‘winging it’ is better anyway. ‘It can be a conversation of sorts’ he says. I had first begun chasing the story when I’d heard that the shortlist for the Archibald included not only Milsom own submission but also a portrait of him by another painter, Matthew Kenning. Once Nigel had been announced the winner of The Archibald Prize however the chance of an interview seemed distant.

He had surely become an art world rock star far out of the reach of this little rag.

As it turns out, Milsom is as humble as ever. He is a considered & softly spoken man with a manner of intelligent vulnerability. His living space, a large warehouse in our own Newcastle, is dedicated solely to the creation of his stark, seemingly monochrome, paintings. This is a man who is devoted to his craft. Already accustomed to media attention, the critically acclaimed artist has publically battled addiction & mental health problems after winning the Doug Moran National Portrait Prize in 2013 while serving time in prison. ‘There was a lot of backlash when I won the Moran. People were saying, what are they doing giving this criminal such a prestigious prize? He should just be left in jail to suffer.’ This win caused his turbulent personal life to seep into his professional life; the information now open to the prying questions of every journalist. He says he has been annoyed by the focus of the media on his time in jail. The repeated probing into his time in jail, his personal life & questions about why he didn’t paint while in prison particularly frustrate him. But can you blame people for their fascination with his story? The narrative of the ‘tortured artist’ has forever been an integral part of our understanding of the creative process. There is still a strong belief among many people that to create great art the creator must be tapped into their own great darkness. Milsom however rejects this. ‘I don’t paint during those [dark...] periods. I can only really make something when I feel good.’

Despite this however Milsom does have a very strong work ethic. He has developed a workflow that sees him painting in his home studio almost everyday, an almost compulsive process that has enabled him to paint even when 'inspiration' may be lacking.

‘I’ve built up an understanding that sometimes those times are the best. Even if I don’t really want to paint, I just do it anyway & by the end of the day I will have created something I couldn’t have imagined that morning.’ Milsom also speaks of the sense of invisibility that is created from constantly working alone. Milsom says it is a necessity to have everything dissolve around him in order to allow himself the time needed to create. ‘If you don’t you would probably go out and do something that is deemed more important.’ It is this faith that something will come, the ideology that each working day is an opportunity to create, that is one of the most admirable traits of Milsom’s character. It is also a clear insight into the professional art world. Creating art is hard work. And to be great, you need to put extreme energies into it. When we discuss his works, Milsom seems almost amused by people’s interpretations of his work as dark, saying this isn’t intentional or reflective of his emotional state. ‘I don’t think my paintings are particularly dark but I know other people do. I’m not making con- scious choices about whether I want a painting to be dark or happy. I just let them go where they go.’ He explains that this is why he holds back from using colour in his works. It’s about letting the viewer look at the picture without distraction; to let them engage with the details, the subject, the emotion of the work without the influence of colour.

His winning painting of Australian criminal barrister Charles Waterstreet, the co-creator & inspiration behind the hit series ‘Rake’, walks this tender line between the playful & terrifying. Waterstreet & Milsom formed a close bond when the infamous barrister supported & represented Milsom during his trial. The portrait, which took Milsom a little under two weeks to paint, is theatrically lit & ambiguous, leaving the audience to interpret the undoubtedly complex relationship between the barrister & his client. By choosing Waterstreet as the subject matter of his painting it also giving the viewer a gentle reminder of the multi-layered nature of his victory. His victory is not just his own. It is also a victory for anyone who has experienced hardships within their lives. His triumph after such personal adversity reminds us that you can struggle, make mistakes, have flaws, yet still be accomplished & kick the highest of goals. So perhaps, what people like about his story isn’t the tragedy but rather the resilience. From the outset it can be hard to tell whether Milsom’s story is one of lightness or darkness. I like to think that, maybe, like his paintings, it depends on your perspective. Or perhaps even better, that it is a honest mix of both.

PHOTOS: by ZANA KOBAYASHI

Painting: Judo House Pt 6 (the white bird) by Nigel Milsom