Julian Opie on VR, shuffle dancing and obsessive art collecting
Julian Opie’s artwork is its own language. It’s vocabulary captures everyday experiences of people; it’s grammar creates sensation.
The acclaimed British artist’s name is synonymous with Pop Art-contoured, heavily-lined figures in motion, landscapes and architecture. These images appeal to our fundamental ability to perceive and recognize, even when they are reduced to their simplest form.
Opie is a tireless advocate for technological innovations and has been exploring virtual reality. In ‘Julian Opie OP.VR@LISSON/London’, until 15 April 2023, the artist has conceived a playground of colour and movement via an ambitious new VR work and a dynamic series of animated sequences based on a high-energy, TikTok-viral dance sequence.
Julian Opie, Dance 1, (2022), Animated poster, © Julian Opie; Courtesy Lisson Gallery
Wallpaper*: Where are you right now?
Julian Opie: I’m sitting on the stairs at Lisson Gallery, London, installing a new exhibition. Most of the artworks can be accessed via Wi-Fi so that my team and me can collaborate remotely. I’m also installing a show in Changsha, China, this week, which has been done remotely. This allowed me to work remotely and to create a virtual reality system which allows me to see works in new places.
W*: Describe your studio
JO: It’s a building in Shoreditch that I bought back in the 1980s when it seemed a very remote and run-down area. Now it’s super lively and I’m usually the oldest person around.
In my studio, I made a space of cardboard measuring 9mx5m. This allowed me to see works in VR. It was a wonderful experience to be in another world, so I set out to make an exhibition. The cardboard room takes up the top floor of my studio – where I work alone with a computer, a double-screen display and a digital drawing pad. On the floor below, there is an office as well as a space for technical support. I hang other artists’ work on these two floors and battle the tide of samples and tests that covers most surfaces. You will find crates, works from factories and other workshops on the ground floor. To judge, photograph and test my works here, I hang them myself. A workshop is located in the basement and has large-format digital printing machines.
This building is like home to me. I also feel calm when I ride my bike every morning, an hour ahead of everyone else. It’s been so much home for me that space and work feel like they are one.
Julian Opie’s studio in Shoreditch, London
(Image credit: © Julian Opie, Courtesy Lisson Gallery)
W*: What was the first piece of art you remember seeing, and how did it make you feel?
JO: Although my mother loved to paint, her father thought it was inappropriate for a girl to attend art school. So she learned singing instead. Her brother, however, went to art school. He opened Cranks on Carnaby Street’s health food restaurant in the 1960s. Cranks was an active participant in classical music and ceramics. I grew up around them. [20th-century] English art prints are displayed on this wall by Julian Trevelyan and Paul Nash. My father always said he couldn’t draw a straight line but he was keen on furniture and had Charles Eames and Robin Day chairs in his college rooms where he taught economics.
W*: Where and when are you most productive?
JO: I’m productive in my studio but the ideas begin outside. I’m particularly aware of the world when I’m passing through it. By foot, bike, car, plane, car, train, or boat. Maybe the mundane of traveling opens my eyes. Perhaps I am able to see the beauty in the world through the motions around and among objects. In museums, temples or airports I find images and materials that can be used to make things. My palette is shaped by the way that the world is constructed and the languages used.
Installation view: Julian Opie, ‘OP.VR@LISSON/London’
(Image credit: © Julian Opie; Courtesy Lisson Gallery)
W*: What’s the most important object you own?
JO: I like my Orbea electric bike and my now-vintage Peugeot 505 estate, and I always carry my father’s penknife in my pocket. I’m not that attached to objects, but I’m obsessed with owning art by other people. For years, I have been swapping and buying art. Art gives me inspiration and justification to create my work. This makes me feel connected with the history, peoples and world. It’s a good thing that I have the option to buy other art if I find it challenging. If you can’t beat them, collect them.
W*: What’s the last thing you read, watched, or listened to?
JO: China: A Brief History It is very short. I’m working a lot in China and wanted to know more about the place. My education seemed to assume that history only happened in the West so I’m pretty ignorant. It has been interesting to see the Austronesian culture, which is based in China, and tribal art from Borneo, Sulawesi, and Vietnam. Just finished this book with my wife Aniela. Happy Valley Police thriller with gritty stories and outstanding acting. All of the episodes were also viewed. Doc MartinMy daughter is in the following:
Music-wise, I’m mostly listening to dance music, such as Armin van Buuren and Paul van Dyk. Techno music is full of energy and emotion. I also just received Max Richter’s album, Sleep – I love his music and we once worked together for a ballet by Wayne McGregor. I exchanged an album cover picture for a looped section of his music which I used in an illustration. Nils Frahm, Hania Rani, and Nils Farahm also excel in an ambient modern classical atmosphere.
Installation view: Julian Opie, ‘OP.VR@LISSON/London’
(Image credit: © Julian Opie; Courtesy Lisson Gallery)
W*: How do you switch off? How do you turn off?
JO: Home audio system with headphones, and Sci-Fi books. Rides on mopeds in the French countryside. Walking along Hampstead Heath’s coastal path.
W*: Do you collect anything?
JO: Art is something I am passionate about. I started off with Japanese prints. Then, it moved on to English Old Master portraits from France and later Greek and Roman art. Finally, Egyptian art. Later, it moved sideways towards Austronesian art and wooden statues, and then beadwork, and more recent contemporary art. When I see something that makes sense to me, I can’t resist. It’s mostly images of people. I’m not sure why. The expense is justified by the fact that I believe it will help me in my work.
W*: What’s your most memorable career moment to date?
JO: I go from waves of great excitement and belief in what I’m doing to a sense of rejection and a desire to move on and away. The same applies to my artworks and exhibitions. My tendency is to believe that the next piece and next exhibit will win people over. Generally, I then feel it wasn’t so great but the next one will be. In my early thirties, just as I gave birth to my first child Elena, I was fortunate enough to be able have a solo show at Hayward Gallery. This show was a way for me to see what had happened and my future plans. Since then, I’ve been thinking about and replaying these themes. Maybe this was my moment of clarity.
Tau Tau figures. Toraja people, Sulawesi. In Julian Opie’s London studio, mid-19th through mid-20th centuries
(Image credit: © Julian Opie, Courtesy Lisson Gallery)
Wooden hand-carved mourning figurines. Jorai people. From the late 19th century to the early 20th centuries
(Image credit: © Julian Opie, Courtesy Lisson Gallery)
W*: If you weren’t an artist, what would you have been?
JO: Perhaps an anthropologist. From an early age, I have read a lot about early humans and I had a place to study anthropology at university – or a primary school teacher like my mother perhaps. I’m better with little kids than adults really but I’m not sure I have the energy for teaching. Apart from creating art, my favorite job was working in a tractor to collect rubbish at a Golan Heights kibbutz.
W*: You’ve just debuted a new VR work at Lisson gallery. What is VR? And where can viewers go to transport themselves there?
JO: It’s all about navigation, looking and reading the world. A portion of the show takes place in VR. [works] Some of the work is in the gallery spaces while some can be seen outside. Also, work was presented at Bond Street Tube Station and a sound-and-image invitation card. TVR Gaming Goggles allow you to walk around in a space, and view drawn objects and images just like they are there. It’s a crude and simplified version of what we all do all day – exist as reflections of our plotted world sensing ourselves against what we perceive via sound and touch and vision. The goggles look a lot like snorkelling but your brain will soon accept this new reality. This allows me to create exhibitions that are beyond the realm of physics and practical constraints. It also lets me enter another world. Many artists have made this their dream, from Masaccio to Miyazaki at Studio Ghibli.
Julian Opie, ‘OP.VR’ detail
(Image credit: © Julian Opie; Courtesy Lisson Gallery)
W*: What role does social media play in your work?
JO: I don’t know anything about social media except what I see over my kids’ shoulders. But like everyone, I use the internet to find things and I came across a homemade high-energy dance called ‘shuffle dancing’ that accompanies 2010s dance music. I get a flash of recognition when I come across something that I can actually use. Since I was a child, I’ve drawn humans walking for many decades. But what if there was an alternate human movement? My second daughter Imogen is an actress and dancer. We selected five fluid, but simple movements that can be repeated and could then dance them. The moves were shown to three others by her. After filming them at 50 frames per seconds and listening to 100bpm, I then traced them with colours from the nylon ski wear that I had taken on a skiing trip with Paul. Five dances were created in multiple films, paintings and tracks by Archie Wingate (a young musician).
Installation view: ‘Julian Opie, OP.VR@LISSON/London’
(Image credit: © Julian Opie, Courtesy Lisson Gallery)
W*: What do you love most about exhibiting art in public spaces?
JO: The idea of getting out into the world is something I love. Museums and galleries are fantastic places to show and see art but it’s a captive audience and a step away from the rest of the world. Public commissions allow you to stand out from the crowd, and to look back at the original works. A moving sculpture I created on Carnaby Street depicts a shopper walking in an electronic language that is traffic signals and shop signs. The surrounding languages were my inspiration and I decided to make it my own. There are 30 Australian animated birds that walk along long roads in Melbourne. People who pass don’t know what it is and only interact if they are interested. The work is not bracketed by an institution, it’s just there amongst the clutter of the street. I’m aware that public art can be pretty annoying, like someone else’s loud radio on the beach, but I try to ingratiate and amuse like a street juggler and disguise what I do in the pre-existing language of the environment.
Installation view: Julian Opie, ‘OP.VR@LISSON/London’
(Image credit: © Julian Opie, Courtesy Lisson Gallery)
W*: What are you working on at the moment, and how’s it going?
JO: It’s going well thanks. I may slow down, but only if I need to. I’m pretty busy this spring with the London show, two exhibitions in China, one in South Korea and another coming up in Rome. Exhibiting is very much a part of making the work for me – that’s where I really get to see them and feel they exist. I photographed and drew 20 people in Busan for the South Korean show and I’m working on a live work that will use real people on walking machines to make living paintings. Although it sounds absurd, this might be possible. I’d also like to draw some toddlers walking to make some very small sculptures based on historical Indonesian sculptures. After that, it’s a bit of a blank. VR 2.
W*: Which piece of advice do you have for the next generation?
JO: I’m 64. We are already in the next generation of retirement. I’m not big on advice. I do what I love and put my effort into everything that is offered.
Julian Opie: ‘OP.VR@LISSON/London’, until 15 April 2023. lissongallery.com (opens new tab)