Amusing Tracey Emin interview.

[Kenny]

http://film.guardian.co.uk/interview...365033,00.html

Two go mad in Margate

Artist Tracey Emin has made a movie drawn from her childhood by the sea. So what happened when Emma Brockes told her she found it boring?

Friday December 3, 2004
The Guardian

God, you have to tip-toe around Tracey Emin, or she flares up in your face like Kevin the teenager. We are in the bar of the Walpole Bay Hotel, Margate, where scenes from Emin's debut film Top Spot were shot. It is dimly lit and eccentrically furnished, like the setting for a seance, and Emin is scowling through the gloom. She is tired, she explains, and upset by early reactions to her film. In keeping with tradition, her work has been thoroughly rubbished by the critics and its teen suicide scene deemed too strong for a 15 certificate.

"Stiff drink?" asks a friend, passing behind her chair. "I don't do stiff drinks," she says. (She's laying off the booze after all the trouble it has caused).

"Cranberry juice?"

"I don't have cystitis either," she snaps.

Top Spot is the name of a teenage disco, long since bulldozed, which Emin used to go to when she was growing up. It is also the slang term for the neck of the womb when it is reached during penetration. Sick name for a kids' hang-out says a character early on in the film, setting the tone for what is, despite Emin's claims that it is "difficult", a moral and rather sweet piece about female friendship in the face of male aggression.

It borrows from Emin's own adolescence which was scarred by neglect, abuse and rape, by an aggressor she has never named, and rescued by the tenderness of her teenage allies. Her best friend is still Maria, from Margate, who she has known since she was four. She is proud that there are no men in her film, not even in the rape scene.

As the critics pointed out, Top Spot is amateurishly shot with a low budget and high recourse to its mitigating status as art. Emin seems at once outraged and consoled by the criticism. Since childhood, her attitude has been forged by opposition and in a quieter mood towards the end of the interview, she admits that she wouldn't know what to do if people were straight-forwardly nice to her.

"If I did stuff and everyone said it was wonderful and lovely, I'd think, ooh, what have I done wrong? I wouldn't trust the situation at all." In the meantime, her stance is infuriatingly defensive: that mixture of ultra-sophistication and childlike guilelessness which comes across as a sort of fatuous petulance. The conversation lurches back and forth in this vein until we both lose our tempers.

I ask about her relationship with Margate. The film is both sentimental about the place - lots of beautifying shots of the sun over the water - and hostile; in the last scene it gets bombed to all hell, in what I assume is Emin giving two fingers to her rotten childhood. "Yeah," she says. "The last scene wasn't about Margate, it was about how there's nothing to go back to; it was about people leaving. I don't want to destroy Margate, I want to build it back up to the grace and beauty it used to have."

The six girls in the film, who act out different episodes from Emin's life, were fed the lines by her rather than being given a written script. Ad-libbing was forbidden. When I mention how good they are, Emin gives me a pointed look and says: "Yeah, but they're MY words. Not theirs. They didn't make any of that up. It's me, telling them what to say." At 41, she is twice their average age.

To illustrate her directorial style, she gives me a scenario to act out. "You're a 30-year-old single mother and you've just been given your first break on the local newspaper to write a piece about me - this is what the film is - and I want you to say, 'So it's the first time I've met you and, although I've never seen it, I really like your work Bed.'"

I stare at her. "Go on," she says. "Say it."

Er, I've never seen it but I really like your work Bed, it's a great idea and, er . . .

"See, that's all wrong. Those aren't the words I said." She sounds cross.

I was extemporising, I say.

"You can't."

Right.

Didn't her actresses want to?

"They did at first, 'cos they wanted to 'act'. But it's more fun this way."

However much fun it was making the film, it isn't altogether fun watching it - although it doesn't deserve an 18 certificate. Individually the sequences are poignant and well-written; there is a touching scene when the girls paint their nails - "It's about self-preservation and pride and having some future," says Emin, belligerently. Or the scene featuring a girl at a bus stop who, when the bus comes, decides not to take it after all and wanders off in a class bit of adolescent vacancy. But without a stronger narrative, these snapshots just don't hold together over the course of an hour. I ask if it was tough for the actresses, with so little obvious characterisation to build upon.

"Hey, guess what, yes there is, there's fucking lots of it. Have you seen the film?"

Yes.

"Do you like the film?"

I like bits of it. And I think bits of it are really slow. I think it drags in the middle.

"Which bit did you think drags in the middle?"

When they're in the museum. And all those seagull shots.

Emin looks as if she'd like to get out a knife and stab me in the head.

"Right. When was the last time you went to the cinema?"

Yesterday.

"What did you see?"

Comme une Image (Look At Me).

"Was every bit of it enthrallingly fantastic?"

I wasn't ever bored.

"OK."

I was aware of being bored when I was watching your film, however.

She takes a big breath. "I REALLY REALLY ... " Christ. This is horrible. Emin tries a different tack. "What was my last work that you've seen, show-wise and stuff like that?"

I admit that I've never seen her work live. Emin's eyes light up; she smells blood.

"What do you think of my exhibition at the Tate?"

I haven't seen it.

"What do you think of my exhibition at White Cube?"

I haven't seen it.

"What do you think of, erm." She pauses. "The work I do for Terence Higgins Trust? You don't know about it," she sneers, "do you?"

Well, I say, what's that got to do with you having made a boring film?

"Because I don't think . . . ugh, I'm really not in a good mood today. I don't think my film was boring."

That's fine, but . . .

"I think it's difficult, it's not boring."

That's fine, but why do you get so angry when someone disagrees with you?

"I'm not angry."

You are angry.

"I'm not angry, I'm tired today and I don't need this fucking crap. Be a bit more diplomatic."

But you asked me what I thought.

"Yeah, but . . . "

Why ask if you don't want to know . . .

"No, but -"

Do you surround yourself by arse-kissers the whole time or something?

"I DON'T NEED TO TAKE THIS CRAP FROM YOU, EMMA," says Emin.

THEN DON'T ASK WHAT I THINK, I reply. We stare at our plates. In the corner of the bar, two old men sit placidly sipping their beer. We get up and go outside for the photos.

"There's all different kinds of artists," explains Emin, in the freezing Margate evening. The air seems to have cleared a bit and her tone become suddenly urgent and unaffected.

"There's someone like Gary Hume, who makes very beautiful paintings; you look at his painting, you think, ooh, I feel better now. There's other artists who do the complete opposite, Bruce Nauman or someone like that, they're just there to fuck your mind up and give you almost like a headache and you come out thinking, oh my God what have I just seen? Then there's other artists who are just interested in communicating an idea.

"I come on the end of communicating an idea. I am never going to be the best visual artist in the world, it's not my point. But I've made a film that's about growing up, about girls, how they may react to something growing up and I just, I just . . ."

Posing in the bus shelter, she looks tiny. Emin tells me about her attempt to preserve the neon lettering down on the waterfront, and how it has inspired bizarre antipathy in the local press. "We'll tell Tracey Emin what we want her neon to say," she quotes one headline as reading. "Stick your Art," she says; and "We Hate Tracey." She gives a small smile.

It's a vicious circle, with Emin; the more she is criticised, the more she puffs herself up and the more people who have never met her decide she is vain and hateful. She's so determined not to be victimised that she's always up for a fight.

The saddest bit of the film is when the girl playing Emin-the-rape-victim is asked how her mother reacted to news of her attack. The actress replies, she "offered to wash my coat".

"Yeah," says Emin. "It happens every day, all of the time and nothing ever gets changed or ever gets done about it. That's what I'm saying. I'm bringing it to people's attention."

We walk back to the hotel. Emin says she is sorry about earlier, but the film means so much to her she doesn't take criticism well. I apologise for my lack of tact. She says she's not surrounded by arse-lickers; that her friends are actually quite robust with her.

"It was just a sweet thing," she says. "The idea of an art film going to a mainstream space. That's all; I liked the idea of it being on in Liverpool for three nights, or Manchester for three nights; of people going and paying their three quid and not feeling like they'd thrown themselves into the arena of contemporary art."

In protest at the raised certificate, she has now pulled it from cinemas, although it will air on BBC3 this month. "But it can be shown in cinemas as long as people don't pay; if I invite them."

That's a good way round it.

"Yeah."

Yeah.

"Whatever."

Yeah.

We get up to leave. "So you're going to write about what a nightmare I am and how over sensitive?"

Too right, I say; and how tired you are, boo hoo hoo, I'm so tired. She smiles. "Get home safely," she says.

[MarkMono]

God what an embarassing one-dimensional cliche that woman is.

If she was a bit more interesting she'd annoy me.

[poprock]

That's a fucking fantastic interview, Kenny. Cheers for posting it up.

Really gives a view of what Tracey Emin is like in person, rather than just talking about her work or her past. From what I know of her, it rings pretty true.

Whatever you think of Emin or her work, there's no denying that's a great example of how to write a disarming and frank interview in a short space. It demonstrates damned well how much better it can be to give an impression of the 'interview' experience than to treat it as a serious business and interrogate a person thoroughly.

[Tweez]

She really in a fuckin arsehole of the highest order.did you see her on Richard and Judy the other day......FANNY. I'm sorry for the horrid things that happened to her in the past but its no excuse to infest us with her so called ART.I've shat in ma hands and smeared it on the bonnet of a Mini, didnae see that prick Satchi offering me 100 grand for it.....paaaahhh

[Kenny]

Originally Posted by poprock

That's a fucking fantastic interview, Kenny. Cheers for posting it up.

Really gives a view of what Tracey Emin is like in person, rather than just talking about her work or her past. From what I know of her, it rings pretty true.

Whatever you think of Emin or her work, there's no denying that's a great example of how to write a disarming and frank interview in a short space. It demonstrates damned well how much better it can be to give an impression of the 'interview' experience than to treat it as a serious business and interrogate a person thoroughly.

I wonder if Brockes will do my DEP interview?

[poprock]

Since a lot of folk are likely to be posting here about how crappy they think Emin is, I guess I should mention how much I like a lot of her work, just for the sake of a differing viewpoint.

I happen to like art which is straightforward, one-dimensional and cliché-ridden. I'm not often a fan of confessional work, but I do like my art to be ideological one-liners. Much of Emin's work fits that to a tee. The bed was a self-portrait in installation form, and perfectly valid for that. The embroidered tent and the quilts which followed it told simple, personal stories, and in a form that gave them a very straighforward context. Admittedly, the new film sounds gash though, and I find Emin's drawings hideous.

Hell, I'd probably class myself as a 'fan' of Tracey Emin, just because I find her an amusing character - how much of it is her playing that character I don't pretend to know, but as a public persona it amuses me. I'll always read an interview with her when one crops up, and I'll watch a TV show if I notice that she's on it.

[blondie]

She's better at Boho than Sienna Miller, I'll give her that.

Plus seeing her on R&J, I'm actually more interested in her than I ever had been.

I like her.

[McLeary]

Crack is a horrible drug.

[Dec]

Is it fuck, population control.

[Tweez]

Originally Posted by McLeary

Crack is a horrible drug.

Only when you smoke it through a plastic tube .GLASS, IT HAS TO BE GLASS.

[MarkMono]

Originally Posted by poprock

Since a lot of folk are likely to be posting here about how crappy they think Emin is, I guess I should mention how much I like a lot of her work, just for the sake of a differing viewpoint.

I happen to like art which is straightforward, one-dimensional and cliché-ridden. I'm not often a fan of confessional work, but I do like my art to be ideological one-liners. Much of Emin's work fits that to a tee. The bed was a self-portrait in installation form, and perfectly valid for that. The embroidered tent and the quilts which followed it told simple, personal stories, and in a form that gave them a very straighforward context. Admittedly, the new film sounds gash though, and I find Emin's drawings hideous.

Hell, I'd probably class myself as a 'fan' of Tracey Emin, just because I find her an amusing character - how much of it is her playing that character I don't pretend to know, but as a public persona it amuses me. I'll always read an interview with her when one crops up, and I'll watch a TV show if I notice that she's on it.

I was never a fan of her work but after seeing an interview with her in which she states that art should only be considered art if produced by art school graduates I almost immediately dismissed her installation art as pathetically contrived and virtually meaningless.

The only messages and stories in her art are those found in everyday life and my life has much more poignant and meaningful messages to be found in it than her 'art' does.

In my estimation, she's really not worth paying any attention to.

[poprock]

Originally Posted by JohnnyMonolith

... art should only be considered art if produced by art school graduates ...

Hahaha. I certainly don't agree with everything she says, but damn, I find her amusing.

Tracey Emin generally entertains me. Even when she's acting like a fool or saying stupid things... in fact, often because of it. I became a fan the moment I saw her (in)famous appearance on the post-Turner Prize discussion programme, pished out of her mind.

[Mulac]

You sound jealous monolith.

I don't have much time for her either.

[eviltwinisdead]

i can't stand her - i saw a documentary about art she was in and the only thing she wanted to talk about was money.

[wavelindsay]

Tracy Emin is a mouthy, opinionated cunt. There are two types of mouthy, opinionated cunts. The first are brash, obnoxious people, usually from London, who use their loudness to get their point across, even though their point isn't usually really relevant,educated, funny or worth stating in the first place. They will normally be quite self conscious, and use their mouthiness as a defense mechanism.

The second type of mouthy,opinionated cunt is tolerable usually because they don't use their mouthiness as a defense mechanism, they are just intrinsically brash and extrovert. Any point that they do make during their mouthiness will have a seed of relevance, education ,humour or natural charisma, making the statement worth hearing. Like Billy Connelly, I guess.

Tracy Emin falls into the first category of mouthy, opinionated cunt. So do I, probably, but she's far more loathsome.

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