#58: Scott Jackson – NOD

25th Feb 2023

Lyttelton-based artist Scott Jackson’s practice falls into a triangular space formed by pop culture (from pre-historic through to contemporary), speculative fiction and the psychology around the subconscious and dream worlds. Ahead of his exhibition NOD at City Art Depot, he spoke to City Art Depot gallery manager Cameron Ralston about his new works. NOD opens 5.30pm Tuesday 28 February and runs through to 20 March 2023.


Easy as ABZ, ink, watercolour and shellac on paper, 267x187mm, 2023

Cameron Ralston: You mentioned that you think we’re living in darker times than three years ago when we had your last exhibition. I certainly find it harder to tune into RNZ with all the news being extra grim (Elon Musk, recessions, the war in Ukraine, floods in the North Island etc). Back in 2019 you said, when thinking about the future and how your art deals with the state of the world around you, “At least humour and surrealism are two things that aren’t intrinsically negative or depressing.” Are those things still key to your works finding place in the doom and gloom out there?

Scott Jackson: Short answer – yes. I mean, I do still find humour in the conflict between how simple it should be to fix the world’s ills and the maddening inability to do so that’s on display all around us. I think we are living in worse times than three or four years ago. Some of the causes maybe aren’t much worse – in terms of climate trouble and inequality, the symptoms are worsening but that’s playing out as predicted and understood by many people for decades. The war in Europe though, that sort of shit is just plain depressing: pointlessly destructive, completely avoidable bullshit that wrecks lives, stupidly wastes resources and leads to another 50 or 100 year-long cycle of hate and distrust. Which is of course the last thing this beleaguered planet needs. That all said, the world was probably in a worse place in 1941.

How much does instinct come into the making of your works? In your materials, shellac for example, you avoid complete control – does that translate to the way you add elements to your drawings? Less compositional strictness, more doodling? Perhaps that fits nicely with your interest in wandering through glimpses of dreams and memories.

It does, yeah. When I’m coming up with ideas for the drawings and start, it’s all by instinct and subconscious. I mean, I can’t understand where it comes from… the compositions and middle section of working can range between doodling and more design-like methods maybe? The watercolour and shellac elements round it off with a filter or haze that adds another subconscious layer. Like a sandwich. But maybe with strange ingredients which are all you have left in the fridge like carrot and jam with milk powder and sultanas.

Can you tell me a bit about your exhibition title ‘NOD’ and how that relates to the works?

I’ve always been interested in sleeping and dreams – (it’s) so mysterious that we’re required to voluntarily slip into semi-unconsciousness for roughly a third of our lives and experience impossible narratives, or multi-sensory hallucinations, and that we just take it for granted – completely nuts.

Also the Land of Nod in the Bible, the barely mentioned world that Cain was banished to after he murdered Abel. Vaguely defined as west of Eden, other texts make references to Cain continuing in his wickedness living there, but without any real details.

Thirdly the word ‘nod’, as in a low-key acknowledgement of something, maybe I’m giving a nod to some shade of grey that I can’t put into words? I’m not sure.

Sweet dreams, ink, watercolour and shellac on paper, 267x187mm, 2023

Your works are chock full of symbols and references. Occult, astrology, fairy tale, mythology mixed in with weirdly mundane human things like socks, cars and biscuits. Do these juxtapositions have particular meaning to you? I guess you have to put the ingredients into the fridge first to be able to find them later.

Strangely (now that I think about it) I’ve never really consciously thought of them as juxtapositions but of course they are. I like old fairy tales but I really like how, given the right set of circumstances, folk tales only take a generation to evolve or even just a few years of confusion about something – like the Mothman or whatever. Maybe what I’m trying to say is that cars have been around since the 1880s and socks since medieval times (or ancient Egypt who knows?). Meaning? I’m not sure. I might not psychoanalyze myself. ‘Chock full’ is good enough for me. Also, the more stuff you cram in the fridge the weirder the soup you can end up making maybe?

The works have this fantastic texture and fuzziness. It pairs well with the often grungier or vulgar details of the pieces. What draws you to this style of illustration? What are you using to make these dark black lines?

Ha ha ha, yes, I don’t think anyone has used the word vulgar to describe the dodgier aspects of my work before and it’s perfect. An unequivocal but old-fashioned way to describe it. I just use standard fibre-tip art pens most of the time these days for the black ink. I used to muck around with proper older style real ink pens like Isograph/Mars matic types but they’re too temperamental and hard to keep clean. Sometimes on slightly larger scale works, or if I’m going for a more traditional look, I’ll use old-fashioned metal nibs dipped in real India ink.

I’m not sure what draws me to the overall style but… I think it somehow reminds me of picture books from my childhood, perhaps?

CHAIN OF FLESH, oil on board, 204x273mm, 2023

The oval shaped paintings in this exhibition stand out as different in form and colour from your previous exhibition and the other works in this show. Did using oils play a role in their composition? Have you used these much in the past? They feel a bit more restrained but still retain that playful visual language you use.

I’ll have to come clean – I am completely untaught in the use of oils and I use them in a non-painterly way. I’m really just doing a type of drawing with them that to me feels a little bit sculptural in my head, so the restraint is built in from the beginning and I keep going ‘til I feel like it’s done.

Do you keep a record, journal or sketches of your dreams? Or things you’ve seen? In your previous exhibition with us you mentioned that you are always breaking down old TV shows, film (especially horror), literature and comics and that reforming them creating a kind of confusion. Is this still the case in NOD?

This show seems a little less pop-cultural to me but has a whiff of the sort of odd children’s books that cropped up in the 1970s and ‘80s maybe? Essentially it’s a similar process to previous exhibitions.

I don’t keep a record of my dreams but I have often told myself that I should. Maybe this year I will get on to it. Maybe I’ll hafta install a self-destruct device so I can’t get incriminated bwa ha ha.

LIVE, linocut on paper, 200x200mm, 2023