CHRIS HICKLIN: We have seen for a while now the occurrence of artists beginning to achieve a kind of pop star status such as Damien Hirst. You are one of a very small group of illustrators whose name is becoming widely recognised out of illustrative circles largely due to the huge commercial success of Sandman and your album covers. Do you welcome this kind of recognition?
DAVE McKEAN: Recognition is only useful because the more people see or know of the work, the more opportunities open up. I've walked down the street with genuinely famous people and I found that experience rather creepy. The only use 'fame' seems to be when you don't have to keep explaining who you are and what you do. (I especially appreciate not having to describe modern comics or 'graphic novels' to people. "Well, they're like regular comics only they're for adults, but they're not pornographic, but they are mature oh forget it.")
CH: Many illustrators finish their degrees and immediately come up against a brick wall in terms of employment. What educational background in illustration do you have, and how do you feel that this has helped you?
DM: I attended Berkshire College of Art and Design for four years, specialising in design, illustration and audio-visuals in the 3rd and 4th years. Completely turned my work, and life really, around. Only started making progress in breaking down my pre-conceptions, and making personally satisfying work in the last few months. I had some very inspiring and communicative teachers. Fortunately I met Neil Gaiman while still at college and so immediately started working on Violent Cases. I did a short Mr. X story for my own amusement which was picked up by the publisher; also two of my tutors were running design studios, and gave me some freelance illustration work.
CH: When did it first dawn on you, the scale of the living that you were going to make out of illustration, and how did this make you feel?
DM: Horizons keep shifting, up and down. DC gave me a written guarantee of work, which for a freelancer was a great help in dealing with basic living problems, buying a house/studio etc. The royalties from Arkham raised the stakes again, advertising jobs yet again. On the other hand, wanting to work more on my own comics for independent publishers, my own books and especially film projects, means that I have to budget carefully. None of these pay very well, and some of them demand considerable outlay.
CH: Is there one childhood experience that you could identify as having set you on your chosen path?
DM: Not really. I've played music from age 8, and drawn for as long as I can remember. The event I usually cite as the one that clicked into focus was seeing a Marshall Arisman lecture at the ICA in 1985.
CH: Whilst trying to break into the illustration market you must have learnt some very hard lessons. What was your worst experience or lowest point?
DM: Two low points come to mind, both involving loss of control. When I first started I did some book covers for, I think it was Pan. The worst art director in the world. My stuff was printed at a slight angle, not enough of an angle to look deliberate, horrible cut-out effects around the figure, awful type, bright orange designy crap, and another piece eventually appeared in bookshops with a cover consisting of two square inches of illustration blown up to fill the cover. It looked dreadful and I complained. I found out later I already had a reputation as a primadonna. Since then I have always insisted on designing my own work.
The first music video I directed (actually second, but the first that wasn't for a friend's band) was a dreadful experience. The budget was tiny, I had no experience to fall back on. Every technical problem appeared while editing; I found out the cameraman and sound guy had never done music videos either; the producer convinced me to shoot on video — big mistake. The final thing was a complete mess. I've only recently thought about directing videos again.
CH: You have cited The Brothers Quay as a major influence. Is animation something that you have considered experimenting with?
DM: Yes. Very time-consuming, but I've thought of a couple of short stories that would make very interesting little animated films.
CH: Do you feel that your work is particularly deferential to that of Jan Svankmeyer, Ansel Keifer or Egon Schiele?
DM: Schiele, Svankmeyer, Keifer and hundreds of others have formal and content similarities and differences. Each have created their own cohesive worlds in which they can come to terms with, comment on, criticise the real world. Social, political, aesthetic commentary. I aspire to the same. So the differences are personal, my background, nationality, opinions are my own; the conclusions I draw from life are my own. The language I use is the sum of all parts, private and public influences.
CH: I have noticed that the work of many young illustrators draws upon your own. Due to the huge cultural stranglehold that television, radio and the printed media has over our lives, do you believe that our individual thought and originality has been irreversibly tainted, or do you accept influence as a natural evolution of all artistic endeavours?
DM: Nothing is created in a vacuum. I think the most arrogant response is to deny your influences — after all, is that not the point of all this? To add to the cultural conversation? To contribute to the way we see and understand things? To gain a tiny bit of immortality in the work and lives of others.
CH: Do you feel that you have been typecast into doing dark work?
DM: Probably. I think most of it's quite funny.
CH: Cages seems to be a largely self-referential work. To what extent do you feel that the characters and events mirror yourself and your experiences?
DM: The opinions in Cages are mine, in that they are contradictory. I have given them to different people. It is a starting point for me as a writer and storyteller, I think the whole book is about starting things, beginnings, forming belief systems etc. Much more than it is about 'art' or creativity.
CH: How many sheep do you own, and why?
DM: None. We look after some local sheep. They are cheap and entertaining lawn mowers.
CH: Who do think will be Christmas No.1?
DM: I think Cradle of Filth's version of "Good King Wenceslas" should be No. 1.
CH: I once heard your imagination compared to that of Clive Barker. Do you consider this an insult?
DM: I like Clive's early stuff, his old home movies, his Dog Company stage shows, etc. I don't like the books or the movies.
CH: You have done quite a few promotions for Kodak, Playstation, and the like. Do you feel a sense of pride in the work you have done for these companies? If not, given that you are no longer financially-challenged, why do you do them?
DM: Yes, I like advertising work generally. I still have bills to pay, and personal projects to finance. They are incredibly professional and proficient. The standard of work required is very high. For Kodak particularly, the brief was as open as anything I'd set for myself.
CH: You have done many album covers for heavy metal bands. Do you feel any sense of affinity with this music?
DM: Not really. I like FLA and Download and the more interesting industrial bands. I can react to almost any music. I turn the volume knob on the CD player up to 11, and thrash away for a few hours. I like getting out of myself for a while. I can't seem to do this for books; I've turned down some really dopey horror covers, I just can't get through them.
CH: You are producing your own album of music, what kind of music is it going to be (if you can label it) and what are your musical influences?
DM: It is an album of songs. Quite quiet and introspective. Jazz-based, with some great jazz players on it. Also some programming and soundscapes, and some acid jazz influences. My influences are all over the place, good song writers, noisemakers. I've been listening to a lot of modern tango music recently.
CH: Are your children scared of your work?
DM: Our youngest is not afraid of anything. Our five-year-old told me she'd worked out what I do. I draw a picture, put it into my computer and press a button, and there you are. Put like that, it all sounds terrifyingly easy. She liked the film I made, but mostly because one of the scenes featured her jumping toy rabbit.
CH: What is the best piece of advice you can give to a young illustrator hoping to carve out a career?
DM: Paraphrasing Kurt Vonnegut, make sure you work and communicate with others, but not so much that it makes you hard. Make sure you work on your own, in your own head, for yourself, but not so much that it makes you soft.
CH: You admit to being half computer-literate, half dedicated technophobe. How do you see your work evolving as the computer revolution progresses?
DM: I'm interested in finding new languages for film and comics through computers. The implications of a digital world are becoming more and more obvious each day.
CH: Which newspaper do you read most regularly, and why?
DM: The Guardian, not often.
CH: Do you feel that considering their popularity, the visual arts are a vastly underfunded area?
DM: I don't think so. In all fields there are various people finding different levels of commercial or personal success. There is support around; there are always ways of getting your work seen. It is a struggle. It is often thankless. Unfortunately I think the question implicitly heads into difficult waters — are the visual arts more worthy of financial support than other areas, education, health... Personally I think education is vastly underfunded. If this was addressed, I think one of the effects would be a greater appreciation of the arts, and just how vital art is to human life — brain food.
CH: Finally, if you could work for one up and coming, original, fresh and fabulous art magazine beginning with an E, which one would it be?
DM: Sure. EXHIBIT:X (a little-known Cornish photocopied magazine covering the lost art of puffin teasing).