Photo: Richard Milward by Sarah Lee

Richard Milward’s debut novel Apples was published by Faber and Faber in 2007 to great acclaim. He has also recently published his 2nd novel Ten Storey Love Song.

Central Saint Martins’ very own Peter Cleak met up with Richard last year, here’s a transcript of their conversation:

FROM BORO WITH LOVE

I don’t have to sell my soul
He’s already in me
I don’t need to sell my soul
He’s already in me

Richard Milward creates magic. Some people say he’s a genius. He was born in Middlesbrough in 1984 and came to London to paint. He graduated from Byam Shaw at Central Saint Martins College of Art & Design, with BA (Honours) Fine Art in 2008. Peter Cleak, Events & Gallery Manager at Central Saint Martins, catches up with Milward in a boisterous and recession-taunting Wetherspoon’s.

Richard Milward is having a grandstand week ~ ‘one big buzz of radio, readings, interviews and mischief’ ~ but he’s sore at Location, Location, Location who recently pronounced Middlesbrough ‘officially the worst place to live in Britain’: “Despicable, just despicable. The Mayor went mad, like, saying it ought to be illegal. And it is terrible. I mean, it can’t do any good for tourism and Boro’s so proud. It’s just a massive kick in the teeth.. some cheap TV show with no ideas. Unbelievable. I need another whisky.” Kirstie & Phil admonished, we retire to the faux-Victoriana lounge.

Faber and Faber’s publication of his debut novel ‘Apples’, in 2007, caused a literary stir. Narrated alternately by Adam and Eve, a cast of teenage delinquents, and some butterflies, ‘Apples’ explores the difficulties of growing up and ‘getting fucked as quick as you can’ on a council estate in Middlesbrough. Comparisons to Jack Kerouac, John Osborne, and Irvine Welsh announced Milward’s arrival as a highly original new talent and the book sold faster than hot cakes in winter. Even better, Milward’s work jettisoned Zadie Smith into elderly care.

So when did you first come to London? I started visiting my brother, who was studying at Queen Mary’s, when I was fifteen. Coming down to stay with him, I could do the bright lights, see gigs.. bands like Sonic Youth.

And that’s what made you want to move down? Yeah, I thought I couldn’t wait to live in London but then I realised I’d fallen in love with Boro. So it could only be London or Teesside.

Image: Ten Storey Scruff Kong by Richard Milward

How did you fall in love with your home city,, that doesn’t always happen? Well, I was brought up just outside Middlesbrough in a strange town called Gainsborough. I describe it like a werewolf; in the daylight it’s a lovely market town; old ladies pushing trolleys, picking up dog biscuits. By night.. pubs and knuckle. I fell in with the Boro crowd at art school. That opened my eyes.. a bit like your first ‘e’.. that’s when I discovered The Linny.

That’s your favourite pub right, The Linthorpe? Aye, you know Sammy Smiths, one of them. Alpine Lager y’know? Alpine Lager, like Turbo Lager!! What they used to call Ayingerbrau? That’s it. It’s amazing how you can tell if people have never been inside a Sammy Smith’s.. they just end up pointing and say ‘I’ll have that one’.. some people still ask for Fosters!

Half way thru Ten Storey it’s called “The Beat Hotel of the North East”? That’s in terms of the crowd; beatniks, meatheads, artists. But it’s not an art pub. The Linny’s an old fashioned smasher pub. The debauchery brings everyone in; 16 to 60 year olds, drinking together, like a lovely little community. Typical Boro.

But not necessarily unique? True. I used to find it where Pia works, ‘The Lord Palmerston’ in Tottenham.

And in the end you plumped for London? Yeah, eventually. I made CSM Charing Cross my first choice but got rejected. I could’ve done Northumbria but Newcastle’s a funny step-up! That Dick Whittington buzz was attractive.

How easy was that, Dick Whittington at Byam Shaw? Really good. “Byam Bar”, especially, was legendary. Good old Jamie. Jamie Wagg’s Thursday? Yeah. Basically every Thursday was the perfect cross between a carnival and one almighty piss up. Byam’s unique and I’ll love it forever. It’s so small, you can’t help but get on with people. You get your dickheads but “Byam Bar” straightened things out. Every week you’d get a shot in the arm of like, debauchery but friendliness, togetherness, everyone topping themselves up. One big kick in the face. And the teachers come out too. That sort of thing.

‘Apples’ dropped during your second year so were you writing at Byam Shaw? I wrote ‘Ten Storey Love Song’ at Byam. But that wasn’t the plan. I’d intentionally finished ‘Apples’ on the dole. I thought I’d keep writing but for all I knew the art might sweep me up or, God knows, it was gonna be a new life. So it was crazy, how one month after arriving, I was in the canteen and Lee rang from Faber, wanting to meet me. I think they wanted to check I wasn’t fifty.. anything to get a foot in the door. Anyhow, we had the same taste in music and the deal was done!

A lot of people get laid on the strength of a good 45! Aye, the music, it’s something special. You wouldn’t buzz off Kerouac or something.. but aye, the music!

So you arrive at Byam Shaw and Faber are publishing your first book! Did you keep stumm or was it like “Girls, the debut novel’s out next year”? I’m a fairly modest man.. I kept it quiet. I told friends in Boro but as you’ve seen, they’re full on, they scream about everything. I’d never really told them I was writing so it was a big shock, when I sent them a postcard from London! At Byam Shaw I think close folk knew about it.. it would come out at the “Byam Bar”! The amazing thing was the teachers because, in all honesty, I was doing terribly. I’m stubborn and my paintings hadn’t changed. Some teachers ~ not naming names ~ thought I was a waste of space. But I was rolling into every lecture, doing my best. I didn’t announce ‘Apples’ cos I wanted them to keep judging my work and see how long it remained unsatisfactory!
Then late in your second year, the news reaches Archway? Yeah.. and everything stayed the same.. until London paper did the ‘Richard’s moody edge’ feature. That went on the wall and fucking hell, everyone changed. Which was lovely.

How did it feel, taking every plaudit going? Dead weird. I mean the free drink is beautiful.. I would never turn that down. But all those parties, I suddenly felt disillusioned with London. I wanted to be back in The Linny,, paying for my pint,, but sharing it with people I absolutely buzz off.

What was uncomfortable? ‘Apples’ was bubbling; everybody was like this book is going to do SOMETHING. So, I’m at a do in my tracky top and this fella, who hasn’t even read it, pipes up “Just LOOK at you.. You’re a genius”. I thought, my God, all the fakeness you imagine of London, it’s actually true.. someone’s read a few words and thinks they can dive on you.

So you finished your degree, then back to Boro. Homesickness? Homesick’s a strange word, like you’re not enjoying where you’re at. I don’t get on well with London but I love its magic, its romance. It’s like voodoo, changing me. I didn’t feel myself after Byam.. like when people brush past on the Tube, suddenly getting angry.. things would snowball. In Boro people say hello to one another.

But the new book, ‘Ten Storey Love Song’, was written in London?
Written at Byam, usually from some mouldy Hackney bedsit.. the fellow downstairs pumping Craig David through his speakers while I’m trying to be the Bard of Boro, with me quill like. Every book is just me getting what I’ve been up to off me chest. So the new book is a lot more London stories.. it’s going well.

Can you give us a little bit more? Ha, okay,, your exclusive. It’s about a girl who decides to be as nice as possible to everyone. It’s set in North London and Wonderland. I won’t give it all away.. but it’s going to be very experimental and magical. The girl finds her boyfriend hung in a park and believes she’s to blame because she’s been trying to split up with him. It turns out otherwise but she decides to be beautifully nice. It’s the first time I’ve written an entire book in first person, from one woman’s perspective. It’s getting very dark and nasty.

A morality play? People taking advantage of nice people.. the balance between being nice or a walkover. You lend someone a tenner and the next thing is, oh, can I JUST borrow a tenner? The book turns on that. As if niceness is a weakness. Tottenham gets mentioned alright.. it’s not disguised.

And the girl’s name? Kimberly.

As if by magic another Kimberly smiles and explains Friday’s food incentives. Spam’s off but the Burger makes sense. We’re loving it. Absolutely cracking places Wetherspoon’s.. I just love how they do it. You always get a seat and they’re always stealing huge great buildings and ex-cinemas. This is absolutely mint man. Wetherspoon’s delivers alright and if customer approval is measured by the release of gas through the mouth, over tips at the bar, the crowd in here love it too. BELCH.

Can you remember when you began writing? ‘Trainspotting’, by a mile. They played a clip on ‘TFI Friday’ and I was straight to our mam and like, can you get us this book for me eleventh birthday, it’s about trainspotting! She bought it but flicked through to check it were suitable. Lo and behold, she lands on the page he’s injecting smack into his cock. So our mam kept it. But she didn’t hide it well.

And were you writing for yourself or with an audience in mind? Every book is cathartic. Depression, anger, whatever,, I turn it into words and spew it out. Like Viking Funerals; set fire and send it away.

‘Apples’ contains enough sex and drugs to shame the cast of ‘Skins’ while ‘Ten Storey’ delivers sex fights and pill-popping in spades. Do you feel any responsibility when writing? I think people who actually read ‘Apples’ realise it is kids going off the rails but they have a warmth and heart that sets them apart from your average teen junkie. I’m saying Boro sounds rough as fuck but it’s got a very lovely sort of people there. It has balance. Some people think it’s sick or dirty. But I hate the way literature reaches a sex scene and glosses prudishly over. I recently read a book and it was ‘I inserted and then we rolled off each other.’ What! If you’re gonna write about sex, it’s an extreme emotional state.. tell it like it is. I mention the rude bits.

What’s it like being on Faber? Faber are unbelievable. A beautiful bunch of people. Being independent, it’s like a family where everyone roots for one another. Faber is just mint.

No difficult second novel syndrome for you. Any obsessive secrets? Obsessive is the word. I’m intensely superstitious! Before I sit down I wash my hands and blow my nose twice. The first draft is pencil on paper, H Faber-Castells only. And I listen to music, fifty minutes long; volume two. Because you write for an hour at a time? Because I hope to. Silence is critical. But with a tiny bit of music, I never get writer’s block. If I listen to The Fall for ten seconds I think, fucking hell, Mark E Smith is doing that… I’ll buzz again. So a bit of Mogwai or The Fall, that’s the Richard Milward equivalent of stretching your legs, taking a bite of Kit Kat.

What on the deck, when you’re not stretching your legs? I get tons of records from Domino and I’m buzzing about The Animal Collective.. the new album sounds like The Beach Boys on acid. In other words, just how they sounded in Brian Wilson’s head.

A group of boys and girls enquire if we’re from CSM. They’re studying fashion and fancy joining our table. I introduce them to the Bard of Byam Shaw. In Wetherspoon’s, the belching never ends.

Peter Cleak
London 23 March 2009

Byam Shaw launched its Centenary celebrations on 1 July with a 100th Birthday Party, held at the School’s studios in Elthorne Road. 200 special guests were invited to lunch, including former staff, governors, friends of the School, and a cross-section of alumni from the 1950s to the 1990s.

Later in the day the School opened its doors to all former students, for an evening of wine, music and reminiscence. From Australia and the Czech Republic, from Canada and Sweden, alumni from across the world made the trip to celebrate 100 years of Byam Shaw.

Robin Klassnik (Director of Matt's Gallery and former Head of Complementary Studies at Byam Shaw), with Alison Turnbull (artist)

Thelma Winyard (former School Secretary, 1985-2004), with Brad Lochore (artist. Alumnus1990)

The party, which was entirely managed ‘in house’, was a roaring success, a present reminder of the School’s nurturing and familial qualities which have made it such a special place for so many for so long. This year’s graduating students acted as hosts and offered guided tours of their degree show. Guests were able to view a screened slideshow of photographs of the School from its earliest days to the present, while those wanting the opportunity for a quiet chat were able to visit the Library, where there was a display of archive material. Music was provided by former students, culminating in a performance from the year of ’95 who re-formed especially for the occasion.

“When I arrived I felt like I was with my people. There was a certain sensitivity and warmth I recognised. I am so pleased to have been a part of Byam Shaw School of Art.” Lucille Dweck – alumna 1985

“What a day – so life affirming and full of warmth… really felt like a coming home you know.. for all of us. Time melted away and a real truth about the way we all were then bonded us together again. Special stuff. Stuff of life.” Kitty Stirling – alumna 1989

“Thank you for such a lovely day on Thursday. The atmosphere was fantastic and such a good illustration of what is special about the Byam Shaw.” Clare Burnett – alumna 1994

“I loved being on that stage – it brought back amazing old memories and very happy ones at that. Thank you for a wonderful evening.” Sarah Mallock – alumna 1995, who played electric fiddle at the party.

“It was so lovely to be involved in it all and to be able to share stories along the way. A fantastic day that will be remembered for a long time.” Justin Piperger – alumnus 1989

Thelma Winyard
Byam Shaw School of Art Secretary
1985-2004

Organic Jam, who played so fantastically at the party. Sarah Mallock, alumna 1995 on electric fiddle

Jamie Wagg, Studio and Gallery Manager, James Alexander Atkinson, alumnus 1995 and Sophie Levi, alumna 1993

Silvia Estevez, alumna 1995 (left) and Abigail Jones, alumna 1996 (right)