We sat down with recent Slade graduate José Guillermo Sarmiento to discuss his first solo show Pigeon Chest organised with John Swarbrooke Fine Art at the Stephen Ongpin Gallery, Mayfair.
Pigeon Chest is comprised of a series of intimate sanguine and pencil portraits of friends, lovers and acquaintances, as well as four large scale graphite powder drawings signalling a potential change in direction for José’s work.
Firstly, can you tell us a bit about the name of the show, ‘Pigeon Chest’, where does that come from?
Pigeon Chest comes from my ex-boyfriend, the words came to me but it’s not as if I was thinking directly about him, I work from my unconscious, ideas come, and I start working and somehow by the end they start making sense. When I was getting to the end of making this show happen, I was like okay the Pigeon Chest refers to him but also the chest as a place of intimacy and something that is also very masculine.
But what is a Pigeon Chest?
A Pigeon Chest is basically a deformity that happens in the ribs, the cartilage grows, and the chest extends inwards.
You’ve included a portrait of Frank O’Hara in the show; is there a link to his work in terms of intimacy?
The link is with his poetry which draws on daily life and looking to the beauty of the everyday, it’s so effortless. He wrote a poem called ‘having a coke with you’, like having a coke with you is the most special thing in the world. It’s about banality and beauty in the mundane.
Does the beauty of the everyday and the mundane relate to why you work from iPhone photos? They obviously capture a very precise and candid moment, for instance we see people looking away, chatting, relaxing; are you capturing specific moments or moments that you project memories onto?
J: I think for me photography is a way to be aware of my life. Not only as an artist but as a person who lives things and wants to record them… So I’m with someone and I’m like “oh, I wanna take a picture”, but at the same when I’m with friends and I want to take a picture immediately, they don’t feel comfortable, they get awkward, they feel like they are posing for a picture so it’s like a secret eye…
So, is there an element of voyeurism there?
Yes… I mean they know because it’s so close, and of course I want them to know. There has to be consent.
Of course. But a lot of your work is about desire, is there an element of desire in being able to capture someone within a photo? Does that come into your drawing?
It’s more like a desire to preserve a moment. A ‘need’ to preserve that moment.
So that’s the opposite of the large graphite drawings which are completely imagined, they seem much more fluid and don’t reference a specific time. When those moments come to your mind, how do they appear?
I’m looking at a lot of magazines and Instagram posts, so they are loosely based on photographs, but it’s more about the composition of the pose as a loose starting point, like the three people in the other room are not real people I know. I don’t know who they are, they don’t look like anyone, but they come from Instagram, magazines and fashion, they are more about exploring a feeling.
The sanguine drawings from the iPhone photos are very sight focussed, preserving a visual moment, but these graphite drawings are much more haptic in the way you are drawing with your hand; would you say there is a link to desire there, in that in drawing with the hand you are in a way caressing the body?
Yes, there is another intention with the big ones, it’s about rhythm, the marks initially are very abstract, and I start working from that and then the figure appears from the process.
So, they are really formulated from the mind…
From my body, they are about bringing the unconscious to my consciousness.
Are the subjects mainly people you have left behind in Columbia or are they people you have met in London? Are they past or recent relationships?
Well, that would be gossip… They are not necessarily relationships, they are also friends.
Some of your other work is quite sexual, how do you approach depicting sexual intimacy vs platonic intimacy?
I would like to do more depictions of sexual intimacy but it’s difficult to have access to it. Because I would like to paint real people, like real friends…
Having sex?
Yeah… but that is something for the future.
We sat down with recent Slade graduate José Guillermo Sarmiento to discuss his first solo show Pigeon Chest organised with John Swarbrooke Fine Art at the Stephen Ongpin Gallery, Mayfair.
Pigeon Chest is comprised of a series of intimate sanguine and pencil portraits of friends, lovers and acquaintances, as well as four large scale graphite powder drawings signalling a potential change in direction for José’s work.
Firstly, can you tell us a bit about the name of the show, ‘Pigeon Chest’, where does that come from?
Pigeon Chest comes from my ex-boyfriend, the words came to me but it’s not as if I was thinking directly about him, I work from my unconscious, ideas come, and I start working and somehow by the end they start making sense. When I was getting to the end of making this show happen, I was like okay the Pigeon Chest refers to him but also the chest as a place of intimacy and something that is also very masculine.
But what is a Pigeon Chest?
A Pigeon Chest is basically a deformity that happens in the ribs, the cartilage grows, and the chest extends inwards.
You’ve included a portrait of Frank O’Hara in the show; is there a link to his work in terms of intimacy?
The link is with his poetry which draws on daily life and looking to the beauty of the everyday, it’s so effortless. He wrote a poem called ‘having a coke with you’, like having a coke with you is the most special thing in the world. It’s about banality and beauty in the mundane.
Does the beauty of the everyday and the mundane relate to why you work from iPhone photos? They obviously capture a very precise and candid moment, for instance we see people looking away, chatting, relaxing; are you capturing specific moments or moments that you project memories onto?
J: I think for me photography is a way to be aware of my life. Not only as an artist but as a person who lives things and wants to record them… So I’m with someone and I’m like “oh, I wanna take a picture”, but at the same when I’m with friends and I want to take a picture immediately, they don’t feel comfortable, they get awkward, they feel like they are posing for a picture so it’s like a secret eye…
So, is there an element of voyeurism there?
Yes… I mean they know because it’s so close, and of course I want them to know. There has to be consent.
Of course. But a lot of your work is about desire, is there an element of desire in being able to capture someone within a photo? Does that come into your drawing?
It’s more like a desire to preserve a moment. A ‘need’ to preserve that moment.
So that’s the opposite of the large graphite drawings which are completely imagined, they seem much more fluid and don’t reference a specific time. When those moments come to your mind, how do they appear?
I’m looking at a lot of magazines and Instagram posts, so they are loosely based on photographs, but it’s more about the composition of the pose as a loose starting point, like the three people in the other room are not real people I know. I don’t know who they are, they don’t look like anyone, but they come from Instagram, magazines and fashion, they are more about exploring a feeling.
The sanguine drawings from the iPhone photos are very sight focussed, preserving a visual moment, but these graphite drawings are much more haptic in the way you are drawing with your hand; would you say there is a link to desire there, in that in drawing with the hand you are in a way caressing the body?
Yes, there is another intention with the big ones, it’s about rhythm, the marks initially are very abstract, and I start working from that and then the figure appears from the process.
So, they are really formulated from the mind…
From my body, they are about bringing the unconscious to my consciousness.
Are the subjects mainly people you have left behind in Columbia or are they people you have met in London? Are they past or recent relationships?
Well, that would be gossip… They are not necessarily relationships, they are also friends.
Some of your other work is quite sexual, how do you approach depicting sexual intimacy vs platonic intimacy?
I would like to do more depictions of sexual intimacy but it’s difficult to have access to it. Because I would like to paint real people, like real friends…
Having sex?
Yeah… but that is something for the future.
We sat down with recent Slade graduate José Guillermo Sarmiento to discuss his first solo show Pigeon Chest organised with John Swarbrooke Fine Art at the Stephen Ongpin Gallery, Mayfair.
Pigeon Chest is comprised of a series of intimate sanguine and pencil portraits of friends, lovers and acquaintances, as well as four large scale graphite powder drawings signalling a potential change in direction for José’s work.
Firstly, can you tell us a bit about the name of the show, ‘Pigeon Chest’, where does that come from?
Pigeon Chest comes from my ex-boyfriend, the words came to me but it’s not as if I was thinking directly about him, I work from my unconscious, ideas come, and I start working and somehow by the end they start making sense. When I was getting to the end of making this show happen, I was like okay the Pigeon Chest refers to him but also the chest as a place of intimacy and something that is also very masculine.
But what is a Pigeon Chest?
A Pigeon Chest is basically a deformity that happens in the ribs, the cartilage grows, and the chest extends inwards.
You’ve included a portrait of Frank O’Hara in the show; is there a link to his work in terms of intimacy?
The link is with his poetry which draws on daily life and looking to the beauty of the everyday, it’s so effortless. He wrote a poem called ‘having a coke with you’, like having a coke with you is the most special thing in the world. It’s about banality and beauty in the mundane.
Does the beauty of the everyday and the mundane relate to why you work from iPhone photos? They obviously capture a very precise and candid moment, for instance we see people looking away, chatting, relaxing; are you capturing specific moments or moments that you project memories onto?
J: I think for me photography is a way to be aware of my life. Not only as an artist but as a person who lives things and wants to record them… So I’m with someone and I’m like “oh, I wanna take a picture”, but at the same when I’m with friends and I want to take a picture immediately, they don’t feel comfortable, they get awkward, they feel like they are posing for a picture so it’s like a secret eye…
So, is there an element of voyeurism there?
Yes… I mean they know because it’s so close, and of course I want them to know. There has to be consent.
Of course. But a lot of your work is about desire, is there an element of desire in being able to capture someone within a photo? Does that come into your drawing?
It’s more like a desire to preserve a moment. A ‘need’ to preserve that moment.
So that’s the opposite of the large graphite drawings which are completely imagined, they seem much more fluid and don’t reference a specific time. When those moments come to your mind, how do they appear?
I’m looking at a lot of magazines and Instagram posts, so they are loosely based on photographs, but it’s more about the composition of the pose as a loose starting point, like the three people in the other room are not real people I know. I don’t know who they are, they don’t look like anyone, but they come from Instagram, magazines and fashion, they are more about exploring a feeling.
The sanguine drawings from the iPhone photos are very sight focussed, preserving a visual moment, but these graphite drawings are much more haptic in the way you are drawing with your hand; would you say there is a link to desire there, in that in drawing with the hand you are in a way caressing the body?
Yes, there is another intention with the big ones, it’s about rhythm, the marks initially are very abstract, and I start working from that and then the figure appears from the process.
So, they are really formulated from the mind…
From my body, they are about bringing the unconscious to my consciousness.
Are the subjects mainly people you have left behind in Columbia or are they people you have met in London? Are they past or recent relationships?
Well, that would be gossip… They are not necessarily relationships, they are also friends.
Some of your other work is quite sexual, how do you approach depicting sexual intimacy vs platonic intimacy?
I would like to do more depictions of sexual intimacy but it’s difficult to have access to it. Because I would like to paint real people, like real friends…
Having sex?
Yeah… but that is something for the future.
We sat down with recent Slade graduate José Guillermo Sarmiento to discuss his first solo show Pigeon Chest organised with John Swarbrooke Fine Art at the Stephen Ongpin Gallery, Mayfair.
Pigeon Chest is comprised of a series of intimate sanguine and pencil portraits of friends, lovers and acquaintances, as well as four large scale graphite powder drawings signalling a potential change in direction for José’s work.
Firstly, can you tell us a bit about the name of the show, ‘Pigeon Chest’, where does that come from?
Pigeon Chest comes from my ex-boyfriend, the words came to me but it’s not as if I was thinking directly about him, I work from my unconscious, ideas come, and I start working and somehow by the end they start making sense. When I was getting to the end of making this show happen, I was like okay the Pigeon Chest refers to him but also the chest as a place of intimacy and something that is also very masculine.
But what is a Pigeon Chest?
A Pigeon Chest is basically a deformity that happens in the ribs, the cartilage grows, and the chest extends inwards.
You’ve included a portrait of Frank O’Hara in the show; is there a link to his work in terms of intimacy?
The link is with his poetry which draws on daily life and looking to the beauty of the everyday, it’s so effortless. He wrote a poem called ‘having a coke with you’, like having a coke with you is the most special thing in the world. It’s about banality and beauty in the mundane.
Does the beauty of the everyday and the mundane relate to why you work from iPhone photos? They obviously capture a very precise and candid moment, for instance we see people looking away, chatting, relaxing; are you capturing specific moments or moments that you project memories onto?
J: I think for me photography is a way to be aware of my life. Not only as an artist but as a person who lives things and wants to record them… So I’m with someone and I’m like “oh, I wanna take a picture”, but at the same when I’m with friends and I want to take a picture immediately, they don’t feel comfortable, they get awkward, they feel like they are posing for a picture so it’s like a secret eye…
So, is there an element of voyeurism there?
Yes… I mean they know because it’s so close, and of course I want them to know. There has to be consent.
Of course. But a lot of your work is about desire, is there an element of desire in being able to capture someone within a photo? Does that come into your drawing?
It’s more like a desire to preserve a moment. A ‘need’ to preserve that moment.
So that’s the opposite of the large graphite drawings which are completely imagined, they seem much more fluid and don’t reference a specific time. When those moments come to your mind, how do they appear?
I’m looking at a lot of magazines and Instagram posts, so they are loosely based on photographs, but it’s more about the composition of the pose as a loose starting point, like the three people in the other room are not real people I know. I don’t know who they are, they don’t look like anyone, but they come from Instagram, magazines and fashion, they are more about exploring a feeling.
The sanguine drawings from the iPhone photos are very sight focussed, preserving a visual moment, but these graphite drawings are much more haptic in the way you are drawing with your hand; would you say there is a link to desire there, in that in drawing with the hand you are in a way caressing the body?
Yes, there is another intention with the big ones, it’s about rhythm, the marks initially are very abstract, and I start working from that and then the figure appears from the process.
So, they are really formulated from the mind…
From my body, they are about bringing the unconscious to my consciousness.
Are the subjects mainly people you have left behind in Columbia or are they people you have met in London? Are they past or recent relationships?
Well, that would be gossip… They are not necessarily relationships, they are also friends.
Some of your other work is quite sexual, how do you approach depicting sexual intimacy vs platonic intimacy?
I would like to do more depictions of sexual intimacy but it’s difficult to have access to it. Because I would like to paint real people, like real friends…
Having sex?
Yeah… but that is something for the future.
We sat down with recent Slade graduate José Guillermo Sarmiento to discuss his first solo show Pigeon Chest organised with John Swarbrooke Fine Art at the Stephen Ongpin Gallery, Mayfair.
Pigeon Chest is comprised of a series of intimate sanguine and pencil portraits of friends, lovers and acquaintances, as well as four large scale graphite powder drawings signalling a potential change in direction for José’s work.
Firstly, can you tell us a bit about the name of the show, ‘Pigeon Chest’, where does that come from?
Pigeon Chest comes from my ex-boyfriend, the words came to me but it’s not as if I was thinking directly about him, I work from my unconscious, ideas come, and I start working and somehow by the end they start making sense. When I was getting to the end of making this show happen, I was like okay the Pigeon Chest refers to him but also the chest as a place of intimacy and something that is also very masculine.
But what is a Pigeon Chest?
A Pigeon Chest is basically a deformity that happens in the ribs, the cartilage grows, and the chest extends inwards.
You’ve included a portrait of Frank O’Hara in the show; is there a link to his work in terms of intimacy?
The link is with his poetry which draws on daily life and looking to the beauty of the everyday, it’s so effortless. He wrote a poem called ‘having a coke with you’, like having a coke with you is the most special thing in the world. It’s about banality and beauty in the mundane.
Does the beauty of the everyday and the mundane relate to why you work from iPhone photos? They obviously capture a very precise and candid moment, for instance we see people looking away, chatting, relaxing; are you capturing specific moments or moments that you project memories onto?
J: I think for me photography is a way to be aware of my life. Not only as an artist but as a person who lives things and wants to record them… So I’m with someone and I’m like “oh, I wanna take a picture”, but at the same when I’m with friends and I want to take a picture immediately, they don’t feel comfortable, they get awkward, they feel like they are posing for a picture so it’s like a secret eye…
So, is there an element of voyeurism there?
Yes… I mean they know because it’s so close, and of course I want them to know. There has to be consent.
Of course. But a lot of your work is about desire, is there an element of desire in being able to capture someone within a photo? Does that come into your drawing?
It’s more like a desire to preserve a moment. A ‘need’ to preserve that moment.
So that’s the opposite of the large graphite drawings which are completely imagined, they seem much more fluid and don’t reference a specific time. When those moments come to your mind, how do they appear?
I’m looking at a lot of magazines and Instagram posts, so they are loosely based on photographs, but it’s more about the composition of the pose as a loose starting point, like the three people in the other room are not real people I know. I don’t know who they are, they don’t look like anyone, but they come from Instagram, magazines and fashion, they are more about exploring a feeling.
The sanguine drawings from the iPhone photos are very sight focussed, preserving a visual moment, but these graphite drawings are much more haptic in the way you are drawing with your hand; would you say there is a link to desire there, in that in drawing with the hand you are in a way caressing the body?
Yes, there is another intention with the big ones, it’s about rhythm, the marks initially are very abstract, and I start working from that and then the figure appears from the process.
So, they are really formulated from the mind…
From my body, they are about bringing the unconscious to my consciousness.
Are the subjects mainly people you have left behind in Columbia or are they people you have met in London? Are they past or recent relationships?
Well, that would be gossip… They are not necessarily relationships, they are also friends.
Some of your other work is quite sexual, how do you approach depicting sexual intimacy vs platonic intimacy?
I would like to do more depictions of sexual intimacy but it’s difficult to have access to it. Because I would like to paint real people, like real friends…
Having sex?
Yeah… but that is something for the future.
We sat down with recent Slade graduate José Guillermo Sarmiento to discuss his first solo show Pigeon Chest organised with John Swarbrooke Fine Art at the Stephen Ongpin Gallery, Mayfair.
Pigeon Chest is comprised of a series of intimate sanguine and pencil portraits of friends, lovers and acquaintances, as well as four large scale graphite powder drawings signalling a potential change in direction for José’s work.
Firstly, can you tell us a bit about the name of the show, ‘Pigeon Chest’, where does that come from?
Pigeon Chest comes from my ex-boyfriend, the words came to me but it’s not as if I was thinking directly about him, I work from my unconscious, ideas come, and I start working and somehow by the end they start making sense. When I was getting to the end of making this show happen, I was like okay the Pigeon Chest refers to him but also the chest as a place of intimacy and something that is also very masculine.
But what is a Pigeon Chest?
A Pigeon Chest is basically a deformity that happens in the ribs, the cartilage grows, and the chest extends inwards.
You’ve included a portrait of Frank O’Hara in the show; is there a link to his work in terms of intimacy?
The link is with his poetry which draws on daily life and looking to the beauty of the everyday, it’s so effortless. He wrote a poem called ‘having a coke with you’, like having a coke with you is the most special thing in the world. It’s about banality and beauty in the mundane.
Does the beauty of the everyday and the mundane relate to why you work from iPhone photos? They obviously capture a very precise and candid moment, for instance we see people looking away, chatting, relaxing; are you capturing specific moments or moments that you project memories onto?
J: I think for me photography is a way to be aware of my life. Not only as an artist but as a person who lives things and wants to record them… So I’m with someone and I’m like “oh, I wanna take a picture”, but at the same when I’m with friends and I want to take a picture immediately, they don’t feel comfortable, they get awkward, they feel like they are posing for a picture so it’s like a secret eye…
So, is there an element of voyeurism there?
Yes… I mean they know because it’s so close, and of course I want them to know. There has to be consent.
Of course. But a lot of your work is about desire, is there an element of desire in being able to capture someone within a photo? Does that come into your drawing?
It’s more like a desire to preserve a moment. A ‘need’ to preserve that moment.
So that’s the opposite of the large graphite drawings which are completely imagined, they seem much more fluid and don’t reference a specific time. When those moments come to your mind, how do they appear?
I’m looking at a lot of magazines and Instagram posts, so they are loosely based on photographs, but it’s more about the composition of the pose as a loose starting point, like the three people in the other room are not real people I know. I don’t know who they are, they don’t look like anyone, but they come from Instagram, magazines and fashion, they are more about exploring a feeling.
The sanguine drawings from the iPhone photos are very sight focussed, preserving a visual moment, but these graphite drawings are much more haptic in the way you are drawing with your hand; would you say there is a link to desire there, in that in drawing with the hand you are in a way caressing the body?
Yes, there is another intention with the big ones, it’s about rhythm, the marks initially are very abstract, and I start working from that and then the figure appears from the process.
So, they are really formulated from the mind…
From my body, they are about bringing the unconscious to my consciousness.
Are the subjects mainly people you have left behind in Columbia or are they people you have met in London? Are they past or recent relationships?
Well, that would be gossip… They are not necessarily relationships, they are also friends.
Some of your other work is quite sexual, how do you approach depicting sexual intimacy vs platonic intimacy?
I would like to do more depictions of sexual intimacy but it’s difficult to have access to it. Because I would like to paint real people, like real friends…
Having sex?
Yeah… but that is something for the future.
We sat down with recent Slade graduate José Guillermo Sarmiento to discuss his first solo show Pigeon Chest organised with John Swarbrooke Fine Art at the Stephen Ongpin Gallery, Mayfair.
Pigeon Chest is comprised of a series of intimate sanguine and pencil portraits of friends, lovers and acquaintances, as well as four large scale graphite powder drawings signalling a potential change in direction for José’s work.
Firstly, can you tell us a bit about the name of the show, ‘Pigeon Chest’, where does that come from?
Pigeon Chest comes from my ex-boyfriend, the words came to me but it’s not as if I was thinking directly about him, I work from my unconscious, ideas come, and I start working and somehow by the end they start making sense. When I was getting to the end of making this show happen, I was like okay the Pigeon Chest refers to him but also the chest as a place of intimacy and something that is also very masculine.
But what is a Pigeon Chest?
A Pigeon Chest is basically a deformity that happens in the ribs, the cartilage grows, and the chest extends inwards.
You’ve included a portrait of Frank O’Hara in the show; is there a link to his work in terms of intimacy?
The link is with his poetry which draws on daily life and looking to the beauty of the everyday, it’s so effortless. He wrote a poem called ‘having a coke with you’, like having a coke with you is the most special thing in the world. It’s about banality and beauty in the mundane.
Does the beauty of the everyday and the mundane relate to why you work from iPhone photos? They obviously capture a very precise and candid moment, for instance we see people looking away, chatting, relaxing; are you capturing specific moments or moments that you project memories onto?
J: I think for me photography is a way to be aware of my life. Not only as an artist but as a person who lives things and wants to record them… So I’m with someone and I’m like “oh, I wanna take a picture”, but at the same when I’m with friends and I want to take a picture immediately, they don’t feel comfortable, they get awkward, they feel like they are posing for a picture so it’s like a secret eye…
So, is there an element of voyeurism there?
Yes… I mean they know because it’s so close, and of course I want them to know. There has to be consent.
Of course. But a lot of your work is about desire, is there an element of desire in being able to capture someone within a photo? Does that come into your drawing?
It’s more like a desire to preserve a moment. A ‘need’ to preserve that moment.
So that’s the opposite of the large graphite drawings which are completely imagined, they seem much more fluid and don’t reference a specific time. When those moments come to your mind, how do they appear?
I’m looking at a lot of magazines and Instagram posts, so they are loosely based on photographs, but it’s more about the composition of the pose as a loose starting point, like the three people in the other room are not real people I know. I don’t know who they are, they don’t look like anyone, but they come from Instagram, magazines and fashion, they are more about exploring a feeling.
The sanguine drawings from the iPhone photos are very sight focussed, preserving a visual moment, but these graphite drawings are much more haptic in the way you are drawing with your hand; would you say there is a link to desire there, in that in drawing with the hand you are in a way caressing the body?
Yes, there is another intention with the big ones, it’s about rhythm, the marks initially are very abstract, and I start working from that and then the figure appears from the process.
So, they are really formulated from the mind…
From my body, they are about bringing the unconscious to my consciousness.
Are the subjects mainly people you have left behind in Columbia or are they people you have met in London? Are they past or recent relationships?
Well, that would be gossip… They are not necessarily relationships, they are also friends.
Some of your other work is quite sexual, how do you approach depicting sexual intimacy vs platonic intimacy?
I would like to do more depictions of sexual intimacy but it’s difficult to have access to it. Because I would like to paint real people, like real friends…
Having sex?
Yeah… but that is something for the future.
We sat down with recent Slade graduate José Guillermo Sarmiento to discuss his first solo show Pigeon Chest organised with John Swarbrooke Fine Art at the Stephen Ongpin Gallery, Mayfair.
Pigeon Chest is comprised of a series of intimate sanguine and pencil portraits of friends, lovers and acquaintances, as well as four large scale graphite powder drawings signalling a potential change in direction for José’s work.
Firstly, can you tell us a bit about the name of the show, ‘Pigeon Chest’, where does that come from?
Pigeon Chest comes from my ex-boyfriend, the words came to me but it’s not as if I was thinking directly about him, I work from my unconscious, ideas come, and I start working and somehow by the end they start making sense. When I was getting to the end of making this show happen, I was like okay the Pigeon Chest refers to him but also the chest as a place of intimacy and something that is also very masculine.
But what is a Pigeon Chest?
A Pigeon Chest is basically a deformity that happens in the ribs, the cartilage grows, and the chest extends inwards.
You’ve included a portrait of Frank O’Hara in the show; is there a link to his work in terms of intimacy?
The link is with his poetry which draws on daily life and looking to the beauty of the everyday, it’s so effortless. He wrote a poem called ‘having a coke with you’, like having a coke with you is the most special thing in the world. It’s about banality and beauty in the mundane.
Does the beauty of the everyday and the mundane relate to why you work from iPhone photos? They obviously capture a very precise and candid moment, for instance we see people looking away, chatting, relaxing; are you capturing specific moments or moments that you project memories onto?
J: I think for me photography is a way to be aware of my life. Not only as an artist but as a person who lives things and wants to record them… So I’m with someone and I’m like “oh, I wanna take a picture”, but at the same when I’m with friends and I want to take a picture immediately, they don’t feel comfortable, they get awkward, they feel like they are posing for a picture so it’s like a secret eye…
So, is there an element of voyeurism there?
Yes… I mean they know because it’s so close, and of course I want them to know. There has to be consent.
Of course. But a lot of your work is about desire, is there an element of desire in being able to capture someone within a photo? Does that come into your drawing?
It’s more like a desire to preserve a moment. A ‘need’ to preserve that moment.
So that’s the opposite of the large graphite drawings which are completely imagined, they seem much more fluid and don’t reference a specific time. When those moments come to your mind, how do they appear?
I’m looking at a lot of magazines and Instagram posts, so they are loosely based on photographs, but it’s more about the composition of the pose as a loose starting point, like the three people in the other room are not real people I know. I don’t know who they are, they don’t look like anyone, but they come from Instagram, magazines and fashion, they are more about exploring a feeling.
The sanguine drawings from the iPhone photos are very sight focussed, preserving a visual moment, but these graphite drawings are much more haptic in the way you are drawing with your hand; would you say there is a link to desire there, in that in drawing with the hand you are in a way caressing the body?
Yes, there is another intention with the big ones, it’s about rhythm, the marks initially are very abstract, and I start working from that and then the figure appears from the process.
So, they are really formulated from the mind…
From my body, they are about bringing the unconscious to my consciousness.
Are the subjects mainly people you have left behind in Columbia or are they people you have met in London? Are they past or recent relationships?
Well, that would be gossip… They are not necessarily relationships, they are also friends.
Some of your other work is quite sexual, how do you approach depicting sexual intimacy vs platonic intimacy?
I would like to do more depictions of sexual intimacy but it’s difficult to have access to it. Because I would like to paint real people, like real friends…
Having sex?
Yeah… but that is something for the future.
We sat down with recent Slade graduate José Guillermo Sarmiento to discuss his first solo show Pigeon Chest organised with John Swarbrooke Fine Art at the Stephen Ongpin Gallery, Mayfair.
Pigeon Chest is comprised of a series of intimate sanguine and pencil portraits of friends, lovers and acquaintances, as well as four large scale graphite powder drawings signalling a potential change in direction for José’s work.
Firstly, can you tell us a bit about the name of the show, ‘Pigeon Chest’, where does that come from?
Pigeon Chest comes from my ex-boyfriend, the words came to me but it’s not as if I was thinking directly about him, I work from my unconscious, ideas come, and I start working and somehow by the end they start making sense. When I was getting to the end of making this show happen, I was like okay the Pigeon Chest refers to him but also the chest as a place of intimacy and something that is also very masculine.
But what is a Pigeon Chest?
A Pigeon Chest is basically a deformity that happens in the ribs, the cartilage grows, and the chest extends inwards.
You’ve included a portrait of Frank O’Hara in the show; is there a link to his work in terms of intimacy?
The link is with his poetry which draws on daily life and looking to the beauty of the everyday, it’s so effortless. He wrote a poem called ‘having a coke with you’, like having a coke with you is the most special thing in the world. It’s about banality and beauty in the mundane.
Does the beauty of the everyday and the mundane relate to why you work from iPhone photos? They obviously capture a very precise and candid moment, for instance we see people looking away, chatting, relaxing; are you capturing specific moments or moments that you project memories onto?
J: I think for me photography is a way to be aware of my life. Not only as an artist but as a person who lives things and wants to record them… So I’m with someone and I’m like “oh, I wanna take a picture”, but at the same when I’m with friends and I want to take a picture immediately, they don’t feel comfortable, they get awkward, they feel like they are posing for a picture so it’s like a secret eye…
So, is there an element of voyeurism there?
Yes… I mean they know because it’s so close, and of course I want them to know. There has to be consent.
Of course. But a lot of your work is about desire, is there an element of desire in being able to capture someone within a photo? Does that come into your drawing?
It’s more like a desire to preserve a moment. A ‘need’ to preserve that moment.
So that’s the opposite of the large graphite drawings which are completely imagined, they seem much more fluid and don’t reference a specific time. When those moments come to your mind, how do they appear?
I’m looking at a lot of magazines and Instagram posts, so they are loosely based on photographs, but it’s more about the composition of the pose as a loose starting point, like the three people in the other room are not real people I know. I don’t know who they are, they don’t look like anyone, but they come from Instagram, magazines and fashion, they are more about exploring a feeling.
The sanguine drawings from the iPhone photos are very sight focussed, preserving a visual moment, but these graphite drawings are much more haptic in the way you are drawing with your hand; would you say there is a link to desire there, in that in drawing with the hand you are in a way caressing the body?
Yes, there is another intention with the big ones, it’s about rhythm, the marks initially are very abstract, and I start working from that and then the figure appears from the process.
So, they are really formulated from the mind…
From my body, they are about bringing the unconscious to my consciousness.
Are the subjects mainly people you have left behind in Columbia or are they people you have met in London? Are they past or recent relationships?
Well, that would be gossip… They are not necessarily relationships, they are also friends.
Some of your other work is quite sexual, how do you approach depicting sexual intimacy vs platonic intimacy?
I would like to do more depictions of sexual intimacy but it’s difficult to have access to it. Because I would like to paint real people, like real friends…
Having sex?
Yeah… but that is something for the future.
We sat down with recent Slade graduate José Guillermo Sarmiento to discuss his first solo show Pigeon Chest organised with John Swarbrooke Fine Art at the Stephen Ongpin Gallery, Mayfair.
Pigeon Chest is comprised of a series of intimate sanguine and pencil portraits of friends, lovers and acquaintances, as well as four large scale graphite powder drawings signalling a potential change in direction for José’s work.
Firstly, can you tell us a bit about the name of the show, ‘Pigeon Chest’, where does that come from?
Pigeon Chest comes from my ex-boyfriend, the words came to me but it’s not as if I was thinking directly about him, I work from my unconscious, ideas come, and I start working and somehow by the end they start making sense. When I was getting to the end of making this show happen, I was like okay the Pigeon Chest refers to him but also the chest as a place of intimacy and something that is also very masculine.
But what is a Pigeon Chest?
A Pigeon Chest is basically a deformity that happens in the ribs, the cartilage grows, and the chest extends inwards.
You’ve included a portrait of Frank O’Hara in the show; is there a link to his work in terms of intimacy?
The link is with his poetry which draws on daily life and looking to the beauty of the everyday, it’s so effortless. He wrote a poem called ‘having a coke with you’, like having a coke with you is the most special thing in the world. It’s about banality and beauty in the mundane.
Does the beauty of the everyday and the mundane relate to why you work from iPhone photos? They obviously capture a very precise and candid moment, for instance we see people looking away, chatting, relaxing; are you capturing specific moments or moments that you project memories onto?
J: I think for me photography is a way to be aware of my life. Not only as an artist but as a person who lives things and wants to record them… So I’m with someone and I’m like “oh, I wanna take a picture”, but at the same when I’m with friends and I want to take a picture immediately, they don’t feel comfortable, they get awkward, they feel like they are posing for a picture so it’s like a secret eye…
So, is there an element of voyeurism there?
Yes… I mean they know because it’s so close, and of course I want them to know. There has to be consent.
Of course. But a lot of your work is about desire, is there an element of desire in being able to capture someone within a photo? Does that come into your drawing?
It’s more like a desire to preserve a moment. A ‘need’ to preserve that moment.
So that’s the opposite of the large graphite drawings which are completely imagined, they seem much more fluid and don’t reference a specific time. When those moments come to your mind, how do they appear?
I’m looking at a lot of magazines and Instagram posts, so they are loosely based on photographs, but it’s more about the composition of the pose as a loose starting point, like the three people in the other room are not real people I know. I don’t know who they are, they don’t look like anyone, but they come from Instagram, magazines and fashion, they are more about exploring a feeling.
The sanguine drawings from the iPhone photos are very sight focussed, preserving a visual moment, but these graphite drawings are much more haptic in the way you are drawing with your hand; would you say there is a link to desire there, in that in drawing with the hand you are in a way caressing the body?
Yes, there is another intention with the big ones, it’s about rhythm, the marks initially are very abstract, and I start working from that and then the figure appears from the process.
So, they are really formulated from the mind…
From my body, they are about bringing the unconscious to my consciousness.
Are the subjects mainly people you have left behind in Columbia or are they people you have met in London? Are they past or recent relationships?
Well, that would be gossip… They are not necessarily relationships, they are also friends.
Some of your other work is quite sexual, how do you approach depicting sexual intimacy vs platonic intimacy?
I would like to do more depictions of sexual intimacy but it’s difficult to have access to it. Because I would like to paint real people, like real friends…
Having sex?
Yeah… but that is something for the future.
We sat down with recent Slade graduate José Guillermo Sarmiento to discuss his first solo show Pigeon Chest organised with John Swarbrooke Fine Art at the Stephen Ongpin Gallery, Mayfair.
Pigeon Chest is comprised of a series of intimate sanguine and pencil portraits of friends, lovers and acquaintances, as well as four large scale graphite powder drawings signalling a potential change in direction for José’s work.
Firstly, can you tell us a bit about the name of the show, ‘Pigeon Chest’, where does that come from?
Pigeon Chest comes from my ex-boyfriend, the words came to me but it’s not as if I was thinking directly about him, I work from my unconscious, ideas come, and I start working and somehow by the end they start making sense. When I was getting to the end of making this show happen, I was like okay the Pigeon Chest refers to him but also the chest as a place of intimacy and something that is also very masculine.
But what is a Pigeon Chest?
A Pigeon Chest is basically a deformity that happens in the ribs, the cartilage grows, and the chest extends inwards.
You’ve included a portrait of Frank O’Hara in the show; is there a link to his work in terms of intimacy?
The link is with his poetry which draws on daily life and looking to the beauty of the everyday, it’s so effortless. He wrote a poem called ‘having a coke with you’, like having a coke with you is the most special thing in the world. It’s about banality and beauty in the mundane.
Does the beauty of the everyday and the mundane relate to why you work from iPhone photos? They obviously capture a very precise and candid moment, for instance we see people looking away, chatting, relaxing; are you capturing specific moments or moments that you project memories onto?
J: I think for me photography is a way to be aware of my life. Not only as an artist but as a person who lives things and wants to record them… So I’m with someone and I’m like “oh, I wanna take a picture”, but at the same when I’m with friends and I want to take a picture immediately, they don’t feel comfortable, they get awkward, they feel like they are posing for a picture so it’s like a secret eye…
So, is there an element of voyeurism there?
Yes… I mean they know because it’s so close, and of course I want them to know. There has to be consent.
Of course. But a lot of your work is about desire, is there an element of desire in being able to capture someone within a photo? Does that come into your drawing?
It’s more like a desire to preserve a moment. A ‘need’ to preserve that moment.
So that’s the opposite of the large graphite drawings which are completely imagined, they seem much more fluid and don’t reference a specific time. When those moments come to your mind, how do they appear?
I’m looking at a lot of magazines and Instagram posts, so they are loosely based on photographs, but it’s more about the composition of the pose as a loose starting point, like the three people in the other room are not real people I know. I don’t know who they are, they don’t look like anyone, but they come from Instagram, magazines and fashion, they are more about exploring a feeling.
The sanguine drawings from the iPhone photos are very sight focussed, preserving a visual moment, but these graphite drawings are much more haptic in the way you are drawing with your hand; would you say there is a link to desire there, in that in drawing with the hand you are in a way caressing the body?
Yes, there is another intention with the big ones, it’s about rhythm, the marks initially are very abstract, and I start working from that and then the figure appears from the process.
So, they are really formulated from the mind…
From my body, they are about bringing the unconscious to my consciousness.
Are the subjects mainly people you have left behind in Columbia or are they people you have met in London? Are they past or recent relationships?
Well, that would be gossip… They are not necessarily relationships, they are also friends.
Some of your other work is quite sexual, how do you approach depicting sexual intimacy vs platonic intimacy?
I would like to do more depictions of sexual intimacy but it’s difficult to have access to it. Because I would like to paint real people, like real friends…
Having sex?
Yeah… but that is something for the future.
