An Interview with Rusty

R: I was born with a head of red hair and that was decision made, so I’m told! I’ve been Rusty ever since.

R: Really serendipitously, I met Ben by complete chance when I had my first-ever show at Cyma Gallery in Folkestone. Ben came in with his family and we got chatting. He had just moved to into the area that my mum lives in and we kept in touch. Over the years we talked about me working with the gallery. I then painted this body of work and it felt like a really good fit for Hang-Up's beautiful airy space on the canal.

R: There are moments when I’ll see an image–an expression, a gesture or a posture that someone makes–or sometimes I hone in on a pattern on my jumper that may manifest itself. It’s these images that come alive when I get to work.

I get many of my ideas when I'm out and about, in a pub or about to nod off, and I’ll have to jot things down in my sketchbook, scribbles, words, and colours, so I don’t forget them the next day. These images will flit around until I pin them down on canvas. Sometimes that will happen straight away or sometimes I’ll muse on it for a while, wiping away and reshaping. Then, once I’m working on a canvas, it’s trial and error. Seeing what feels right and what doesn’t.

I’d say that I base a lot of my process on instinct and so, apart from an initial quick sketch, I like to get stuck in. I find it’s when things get messy, the 'accidentals' and the ghost notes are what make the painting come alive...

R: My work is grounded in my own experiences as a young woman growing up in a male-dominated society. I use my own imagery to debunk it, and I think it’s really necessary to be a part of the conversation.

I am a strong-willed, opinionated woman with a lot to say and I–like a lot of women I know–have grown up with the everyday sexism that young girls and women face. I was born into a family that encouraged me to express my own voice, yet I have still been told I’m too much, too loud, too bossy, by teachers, doctors, peers, and boyfriends. Taking these negative experiences and topics, flipping them on their head, and finding your own power in them, that’s what life’s all about - I think!

The female image has been used throughout time, and often these female bodies were viewed and represented by men, sexualised by the male gaze. My work is my own projection of that; painting women that are HUGE, LOUD and FEARLESS. I’m at the very early stages of this narrative and I have a lot more to say on it which is really exciting.

R: A lot of it comes from my imagination. I imagine each painting as a character. I imagine what she loves, how she stands, what she likes to do at the weekend. I have this image in my head of all my paintings in one room together, having come to life, talking to each other about how drunk they got the night before and how many cigarettes they smoked - ha!!

R: I’ve had a fascination with colour and texture in all aspects of my life from day dot. When I was a kid I had a sparkly Barbie bikini, I loved the way it shone and I refused to take it off. My parents had to let me wear it under my school uniform so I’d get in the car! Growing up our home was full of textiles and patterns and colourful paintings too.

When I studied, we had a dye lab where I spent most of my time working out how to hand-dye fabrics a certain tone. I had a book packed with swatches, I’d select the ones that worked best and mix my own colours to print on top of. I still work very similarly now. I tend to select a baseline and from that pick a bolder palette that jars against the neutrals. Colour is so visceral and I like having the freedom to experiment.

R: Creativity has always been a way for me to drive out the noise. There’s something about painting that makes me feel full, like scratching an itch, and I’m ritualistic in going to the studio and being in that headspace, even if nothing comes that day. It gives me purpose and direction which, for someone who spends a lot of time in their own head, can be really cathartic. Creating my own world of imagery and colour that I continue to build on and develop, that I keep on learning from–that’s grounding and magical.

R: What a brilliant question–it’s hard to pick one. I’m happiest when I’m painting big, and I’ve always envisioned working in space and exhibiting 10-metre-tall paintings the size of gods. Ethereal and unearthly figures you can see but can’t reach.