Spotlight: Sam Bailey and The HIX Award 2018

Surreptitiously housed down the winding staircase of the Tramshed Restaurant, Shoreditch, HIX ART Gallery has slowly but surely established itself as a forward-thinking hub of contemporary art in London’s lively East End. Known formerly as the Cock ‘n’ Bull Gallery—named after the eponymous sculpture of Damien Hirst, elevated in monumental style above the diners upstairs—the gallery was inaugurated back in 2012 with a succinct manifesto for progressive and exciting art exhibitions that drew from established voices to the very best of London’s up-and-coming.

Occupying the cosy basement area of the restaurant and fuelled by the passion of its founder Mark Hix—friend to many of the YBAs and himself a dedicated art enthusiast—the gallery is currently curated by the talented Sophie Harriott, turning around a series of six-weekly shows that engage with a plethora of artistic styles and concepts.

In the last year alone, they have exhibited infamous illusionist and oxymoron aficionado Patrick Hughes—accompanied by all 12 of his studio assistants; the pop-expressionist social vignettes of Philipp Rudolf Humm; the celebratory yet subversive all-female Brains & Lip Takeover show; and numerous solo-presentations of nascent artistic careers, including the Matisse-come-Perry still lifes of Jacob Yarwood, the quasi-exotic surrealism of Joshua Raz or the prosaic yet heroic figures of Ben Edge’s intimate outsider portraits.

Launched soon after its opening, in 2013, was The HIX Award. Confronting the irksome limbo that exists between graduation and going-pro, the Award aims to foster a breadth of young artists teetering on the proverbial knife-edge of their gesso stained palettes. Since its inception, the Award has garnered a national reputation for its accessibility and success. Nominated artists take part in a curated group exhibition at HIX, with a generous cash prize and solo-show presented to the winner.

Shortlisted by Hix himself, each year’s finalists are judged by a new cohort of esteemed visual artists, the panel having included the likes of Stephen Webster and Dylan Jones, as well some of Britain’s favourite enfant terribles, the YBA’s Tracey Emin and Gavin Turk. The unique addition of a People’s Choice Award provides a direct link between the artists and public; a germane and novel dialogue for artists at such an early stage of their career.

The HIX Gallery’s earnest manifesto is ratified by its Award’s talented alumni. It’s first winner, Nicholas Permain, selected for the prestigious FBA Futures in 2015; its second, Felix Treadwell, named GQ’s ‘British Artist to Watch’ in 2017; and its third, Ally McIntyre, a print of her HIX Award-winning painting, Moon Cries for Ferdinand, now a part of the V&A’s permanent collection. Sam Bailey, the most recent of which, busy grinding away in his studio in advance of his solo-show with HIX in November. 



Graduating from Central Saint Martins in 2017, Bailey’s works are a series of mnemonic whispers. Layering watercolour and gouache on archival newsprint, anonymous and lurid apparitions are laced with a subtle melancholy. Both aesthetic and haptic, the material substance of his work echoes the DIY ethos of his subjects: images of activists from various protests in the 1980s, such as the Women Peace Camps of Greenham Common, the subject of his winning piece, Smoker 3 (2017).

A nauseous blend of mustard green and hollow grey, the self-effacing figure oscillates from recognition to neglect; the loose splatters and stains evoking a warm and quasi-nostalgic dotage. The materiality of his portraits—Baconesque phantoms that beleaguer the histories of protest, media and affect—are indeed concerned with questions of time and physicality during the crossover from Fordist to Post-Fordist modes of production and consumption. However, their very inability to be grasped—like memories themselves—reflects the cognitive dissonance of an age; stretched from nostalgia to futurism, paranoia to anaesthesia.

Whilst Smoker 3 exudes a plaintive disposition, Bailey’s works equally turn to the fiercely existential. Whilst his palette seamlessly shifts from darker hues to the ethereal, his characters’ consistent lack of a graspable identity is tantamount. His work, Beanie Test (2018), reminiscent of the supreme alienation one would find in Giacometti’s Annette (1952), the mix of muddied flesh and vertiginous black souls a rapturous expression of the modern self.

Ahead of his upcoming solo-show this November at HIX, I spoke with him about the Award, his work, and the ambivalence of digital life.

Smoker 3 (2017) (left) and Beanie Test (2018) (right)

So, Sam, how did you hear about the HIX Award?

There was a card left by my work at the St Martins degree show and then a few days later Sophie Harriot from the gallery emailed me suggesting I apply. I’d had a few emails asking for applications for various opportunities but Sophie’s was noticeably more personable. It’s been an incredibly generous and friendly experience from the beginning. 

How was your experience of the Award?

It was great, it was very exciting to get shortlisted and to be given the opportunity to show work alongside, and meet, so many talented artists. It was a real boost after graduating.

How has winning the HIX Award contributed to your practice?

Most importantly being able to focus on making artwork, there’s no way I would have been able to spend so much time in the studio without winning the prize. Also, the added confidence it gives you after graduating to push the work further.

Was there a favourite moment for you?

Probably being high fived by the artist Sue Webster at the after party, on the night of the award, it topped what had already been such an overwhelming and surreal evening.

Let’s talk about about your work, Smoker 3, which won the prize.

Where does the image come from?

This series depicts images of activists and protestors based on archival photographs. The activist shown is from a protest at Greenham Common, smoking in one of the Peace Camps, taking time to pause and think, but also achieving something at the same time by the very nature of being present, in occupation.

Do you always work on newspaper print?

I wouldn’t say always, I had a time when I focused on it more than other surfaces but now it’s one of a few. It came about from using whatever paper was at hand for testing ideas and I liked the effects I was getting with it, slightly blurred imagery, the paint bleeds into it much more than thicker paper. I wanted to use it for a project and it felt right when researching activists from the eighties, as a reference to pre-digital information exchange.

Is there a nostalgia at play here? For this pre-digital age?

There is an aspect of that in some recent work as it’s an age I grew up in but I’m not looking to make artwork that’s sentimental, or prescriptively saying the past was better than the present. I do have mixed feelings about the internet, it’s a great tool creatively, for research and learning, but the way it is with us all the time on mobile devices, meaning we’re essentially on call 24/7 is not so healthy. There seems to be much more time pressure today, to constantly be productive and quicker.

Protesting, of a kind, has also started to inhabit that space in a questionable one click fashion on social media. I wanted to look at protests in the UK when people didn’t have those tools, how committed they were and how for them time and their physical presence over long periods through occupation, were their weapons.

So, you work is an attempt to wrestle with these ideas of contemporary protest?

Not overtly, but it’s certainly been a contributing factor to my interest in the theme of historic protest. It’s hard to imagine that some aspects of ‘online activism’ will have a significant impact, particularly in the echo chamber scenario where likeminded people share their views and support for causes. But the internet has also been a great tool in raising awareness of positive action successfully, such as the Women’s March on London last year.

Is your emphasis on the importance time, materiality and physical presence, best understood in opposition to the hyperactivity of the internet?

Yes, it is. I’m really not very prolific when it comes to painting because I like to spend so much time looking at my work before I take the next step, building up layers and seeing where the work takes me, it’s a slow process. And yes, it has been a reactionary way of making work, I want to make artwork where the hand is evident and escapes the general homogenization of experience through slick digital media.

When I was studying there was a lot of work being made digitally, taking on our current malaise by using the same technology, there were some really impressive artworks being produced. But for me when I used something digital to make artwork it felt like I knew the end product before I got there, it felt too planned. I wanted to go back to making work where the outcome wasn’t so clear and human error, and the materials I used, created their own unexpected results.

Opening this November, Bailey’s upcoming show will continue in this earnest, painterly vein. Reflecting the confidence the success of the Award has given him, expect a series of works which push Bailey’s use of colour and scale to new heights. Continuing to work from used photographs, his new series will hone in on the perpetual twilight of our current 24/7 malaise of non-stop connectivity. Citing the work of painters such as Pierre Bonnard and Sterling Ruby, the show is likely to push its audience to the affective limit, combining historical sense with intuitive sensibility. To quote one of his favourite authors, Jonathan Crary, Bailey’s works are “a dark prospectus of human life in the absence of community or civil society.” One he renders, nonetheless, in a dazzling beauty.