Elliott Pittam
Elliott Pittam is a self-taught painter based in London. He worked as a tattoo artist for more than ten years and taught himself to draw along the way. Pittam only started painting seriously during lockdown, after watching his partner take it up. Most of his ideas come from people-watching, which is why his paintings are full of people arguing, drinking or waiting around, usually with something a bit funny or awkward going on. He paints fast, in oil and acrylic, and likes a scene to feel cinematic, as if you have walked in halfway through. "Maybe I just watch too much TV," he says.
Q: You're self-taught. How did you end up painting?
A: Painting was something I'd always wanted to do. I'd played around with it a little over the years, but never really committed to it. I'd been tattooing for over a decade and had taught myself how to draw through that, but for some reason painting felt like a different thing altogether. I think I was always worried about making something and then actually putting it out into the world.
During lockdown my partner started painting, and watching her just get on with it helped me let go of a lot of those thoughts. It made me realise I didn't need permission to do it or to know exactly what I was doing. I could just start painting and work it out as I went.
Q: You paint fast and leave the decisions showing. Talk us through your process.
A: Even though the paintings are quite loose and fast, there's actually a fair bit of planning that goes into them. I'll work out colour palettes, figure drawings and compositions beforehand. The thing that probably takes the longest is sitting with ideas and breaking them down — working out what will actually translate into a good composition and, ultimately, a good painting.
By the time I get to the canvas, a lot of those decisions have already been made, so the painting itself can happen quite quickly. I like working that way because it keeps an energy in the finished work. I don't want to keep correcting and refining everything until all the life has gone out of it. I'd rather leave some of the decisions, mistakes and changes visible.
Q: What kind of moment between people makes you want to paint it?
A: I get a lot of joy out of people-watching. I'm usually more interested in mundane, everyday situations than anything particularly dramatic.
There are always these small nuggets of humour or something slightly weird going on if you watch for long enough. People have odd little quirks — the way someone sits, how they react to another person, a strange gesture or an awkward interaction.
I quite like those moments because they're often completely unintentional. Nobody is trying to be funny or interesting, but somehow they are. Those are usually the things that stick in my head and eventually find their way into a painting.
Q: Humour, class, and people being awkward with each other all land in the same painting. How do they come together?
A: It really just comes from observing real life. Living in London, you're privy to the whole spectrum of people, and if you sit and watch for long enough you start noticing how differently everyone moves through the world.
Some people seem completely oblivious to everyone around them and don't really care what they do, while others are the complete opposite — so aware of themselves and everyone else that they almost become awkward or clumsy. I find that contrast really funny and interesting.
The class element is just there because it's all around us. Hackney in particular feels like a big pot where completely different people, backgrounds and ways of living are all thrown in together. I don't consciously try to make paintings about class; it naturally finds its way in because it's part of what I'm looking at.
Q: An ordinary scene turns cinematic somewhere along the way. Where does that happen?
A: I'm not really sure it's something I consciously do. I can normally see a painting in my head before I've actually got anything down, so a lot of the process is just trying to get that image out of my head and onto the canvas.
I suppose I naturally think about things in quite a cinematic way — where people are positioned, what's happening just outside the frame, or whether it feels like you've arrived halfway through something. I like a painting to feel as though there was a moment before it and there'll be another one afterwards, rather than everything being neatly explained in one image.
Maybe I just watch too much TV.
Q: This year you had a solo with Haricot and group shows with Beers London and Partnership Editions. What's ahead?
A: They've all had a really great response, which has been amazing. I've got a few more group shows coming up later this year, including a show with Galleri Egelund in Copenhagen and a group exhibition at YUSTO/GINER in Marbella, curated by Saša Bogojev.
I'm also currently putting together a collection for 8 Holland Street in London. I've admired what they do for a while, so I'm really excited to work with them and see how the paintings sit within that world.
Then next year I'm lucky enough to have a couple of solo shows lined up. It feels like things have moved quite quickly this year, so I'm excited to see where all of that leads and, more importantly, where the paintings go next.
