Representing the creative future

Richard Malone: “I don’t think fashion knows what to do with me”

Irish fashion designer and artist Richard Malone on the power of resistance and their new exhibition at the RA

When Richard Malone graduated in 2014 after having studied a BA in Fashion Design: Womenswear at Central Saint Martins, he steadfastly resisted launching a brand. Instead, the Irish fashion designer and artist developed an independent multidisciplinary practice, one that muddies the lines between fashion, sculpture, and performance. Renouncing any potential disruption to unbridled creativity – conglomerates, trends and TikTok – Malone mapped out a career marked by cathartic resistance.

His latest work “Poem in the dark about sadness/filíocht faoi bhrón, as an dorchadas” is a striking mobile installation that fills the Royal Academy’s Wohl Central Hall for this year’s Summer Exhibition. Composed of intersecting metal arcs upon which deep blue, hand-sewn fabric is carefully draped, the sculpture centres queer working-class Irish and immigrant identities. Cue another potent display of resistance – one that rejects societal expectations of how these identities should be represented.

By reclaiming these personal narratives and resisting their fetishisation as in popular culture, Malone yet again defies categorisation. Although this may provoke puzzlement within the fashion and art industries, that’s essentially the crux of Malone’s practice: “I didn’t want to make it that understandable”.

After you graduated, when and why did you decide to launch your own brand?

I never thought that I was launching a brand. When I was 22, I worked at Louis Vuitton in Paris for a year, and I felt quite icky about that. Even though I loved the people that I worked with and some elements of the environment, I knew I didn’t want to be in a conglomerate. When I graduated, I had really good job offers but they were from houses in Paris, and I knew I didn’t want to do that again. So, I said I’d take a risk.

When we did the first show I had a prize – the Deutsche Bank’s Award for Fashion – and that gave me money to do a collection. I went back to Wexford and made it in my dad’s shed. It was always about having a practice, as opposed to launching a brand. I’ve always resisted having a thing that you do and doing it to death. A lot of people were doing that out of Saint Martins, but you can see that it only works for the people who are super rich – they’re the only ones that still have brands. I have to be very protective of what I have, and how I want to work within that.

“The reality of being at the top end of fashion or art is that there are very few people who are immigrants and who are working class.” – Richard Malone

As you’ve mentioned, you didn’t want to be employed by a conglomerate. What were the hardest and most exciting parts of taking that risk?

I think the hardest part was that I didn’t want to get a bad reputation. I’m very good at saying “no”. I’m quite intuitive, so if I feel like something isn’t right, I won’t do it. Sticking to that has been a really good lesson. The rewarding part was that a few amazing women started buying clothes from me at the very beginning. That’s the only reason I like it, the only thing I think is real about contemporary fashion – making clothes for someone with the intention of wearing them and thinking about the function of that. Otherwise, you’re just making images. When you have that spotlight on you, you can run with it. I thought I’d just run with it for a minute and see what happens.

“When I first graduated the only designers who were functioning were from the same area of London: Westbourne Grove or Notting Hill. Some of their mums were in the fashion industry or their aunts were famous people in fashion.” – Richard Malone

With that mindset, did you face hardships with people not understanding your work?

I think so, but I didn’t want to make it that understandable. The reality of being at the top end of fashion or art is that there are very few people who are immigrants and who are working class. That was always quite apparent to me. They were always tricky conversations. You could speak a lot about it, but people never had a certain type of empathy. They hadn’t experienced it, so they didn’t understand.

When I first graduated – and this isn’t a criticism of anyone’s designs – the only designers who were functioning were from the same area of London: Westbourne Grove or Notting Hill. Some of their mums were in the fashion industry or their aunts were famous people in fashion. Even the models were all from that area. It’s still kind of like that. All those people are just protecting their things, and not willing to question why they’re the only people in the room. There’s more diversity for sure, but not really people outside of London.

“When I started, I was 23. You don’t know anything, and you shouldn’t. I still think I shouldn’t really know anything. You should start getting to know when you’re about 60, or 80.” – Richard Malone

Did you ever feel pressured to commercialise your practice to “sell more”? Was that ever a concern for you?

It wasn’t a concern. The issue is that a lot of the prizes and awards are judged on that. I don’t think a buyer at a London department store would have any really interesting thing to say about my work. I think anything that’s based on trends is very dangerous, so I always try to avoid that. It’s funny going back through certain work because it doesn’t look like anything else. That’s one thing I’m impressed with. I didn’t want to be a designer who looks at mood boards and copies work from the nineties or noughties – I don’t think that’s smart. It’s about being transparent about what you’re trying to do, and always trying to experiment within it. If I had just done one thing, I’d be very, very bored.

When I started, I was 23. You don’t know anything, and you shouldn’t. I still think I shouldn’t really know anything. You should start getting to know when you’re about 60, or 80. It’s supposed to be a journey, a process, research, delivery, and rewarding projects. That’s how I genuinely think about it.

You’re investing so much creative energy into sculpture-making and performance art. Was it a conscious decision to move away from what society thinks fashion is in a more traditional sense?

Yes. The only reason I did shows was to get funding. There’s no other way to get funding really. With prizes and awards, I had a problem with these strange, celebrity judges. I don’t think they can judge my work because they wear anything they’re paid to wear. You have to be careful of whose opinion you let in.

“At a certain point in my career, I was being interviewed for creative director jobs. I thought that I shouldn’t do this just because everyone else has.” – Richard Malone

Was your decision led by frustration with the fashion industry?

There’s always frustration with it. I think every single person who works in fashion is frustrated with it. The frustrating thing for me is the lack of conversation. All these interesting narratives – the body, gender, class, and race – are embedded into the industry, but it’s hard to find someone who’s writing about that. I feel like for the last 10-15 years, the conversation is led by commerce. For something that’s supposed to be a criticism, you’ll talk about bestsellers and products as opposed to what it actually means. Maybe it’s just the case that not a lot of work means that much.

I guess people are really sticking to one system of work. At a certain point in my career, I was being interviewed for creative director jobs. I thought that I shouldn’t do this just because everyone else has. Why would I do something that’s just what “you’re supposed to do?” So, I didn’t do any of them and I feel much better for that. The only thing you get from that is money, and you don’t need loads of money. If it’s something that’ll dictate what you do, it’s not worth having.

As a creative who engages with the fashion industry and the art industry, what are the differences between them? 

In contemporary art, you have more conversations about what you’re doing, why it looks like that, and why you’ve come to work with certain fabrics or processes. When you show work in fashion, it’s a six-minute show and that’s it. The differences are in the system, but there is the same sort of hierarchies. I feel like you have better conversations in contemporary art and certainly more freedom if that’s what you’re looking for.

Moving on to your installation at the Royal Academy (RA). The theme of the Summer Exhibition is Only Connect. What does this mean to you? Can you talk us through the concept of your work?

I was on a residency at a regenerative farm in Ireland when David Remfry, the coordinator of the exhibition, called me and explained the theme. The term Only Connect is from the book Howards End by E. M. Forster. There are a lot of interesting themes in his work. David asked me to do the Wohl Central Hall [in the heart of the exhibition space] quite outright, which is a mad thing to do when you’re quite young. I don’t do things on that scale, so I think he trusted me with it. From start to finish I had six weeks, so the best thing to do was go and look at the space and start making the installation. And I made it. I welded all the steel – people think it’s fabricated but it’s not.

There are a lot of weighted things showing at the RA, especially if you’re queer or an Irish person. I think you have to take that in your stride and react to it. In my career, I’ve tried to not fetishise that and not be like “Here’s a blue jockstrap” – that’s not what queerness is. I also wanted to avoid the narrative of: “I’ve made a bunch of hoodies because I’m working class”. I try to occupy a space that’s nuanced for people from those backgrounds. It’s honest to where I’m from and the worlds that I grew up with – working between building sites or female environments with stitch and weave, things that are connected to Irish identity. I wanted to be cognizant of that.

The sculpture is hand sewn. The inners are stitched on a machine, but all the drapes are stitched in place by hand. It [the stitching] is invisible, and that’s an interesting concept because that type of labour is invisible. People don’t ever talk about it, even in conversations about sustainability or how we can progress. People who work in factories aren’t in it; it’s some influencer telling people what to do.

“Having the Irish language in the title is important. It’s the first time that has ever happened, and that speaks to the immigration pattern in London more than many other things do for me.” – Richard Malone

It’s the same with welding steel. The whole of [London] city is built of this, and the people who make it are never conversed with. I’m not saying I’m one of those people that makes it, but that’s the type of labour that I grew up with. It’s now a very skilful thing that people recognise, but it comes from a place that isn’t about a fine art education. It isn’t about that elitism. It’s quite a new language, so for me, leaning into that is an experiment.

To create a sculpture that’s suspended means that it’s constantly moving. It flips the narrative of a “good” and “bad” side on its head, which I think is important for the time we’re in now. It’ll constantly move throughout the exhibition, so I’m excited about that. It’s nuts seeing it there because it just feels like a sketch or scribble. I think that’s how it should feel. It’s a response to an environment.

Bringing that to the RA and having the Irish language in the title is important. It’s the first time that has ever happened, and that speaks to the immigration pattern in London more than many other things do for me.

It’s the same if you go back to fashion. I have these abstract silhouettes, shapes, and processes that aren’t recognisable as something else. To me, that’s more of a representation of where I’m from and a certain type of queerness. Rather than being obvious about it or playing with the codes that heteronormative people may expect to see when they look at queerness. I’d never give them the satisfaction of that [laughs].

It was quiet when I visited the exhibition, so I was able to spend time with the installation. I read that it “centres gesture, personal action and queer working-class Irish and immigrant identities”. I was trying to find that within the work. But it’s deeply personal – not just for you – because it allows the spectator to create or find their own meaning. 

Totally, I think it’s really interesting when people read that. They’re looking for what they think identities should look like. But it is that I’m the one that did it. It’s not going to be those things. Your expectation of what they should look like is interesting because you have a preconceived notion of what that looks like. I think everyone carries that. I find that fascinating, especially within the queer artists’ community that I suppose I’m part of, but I’m more abstract. People are always looking for an “in”, and that speaks to commodification. You want to be able to say what it looks like and how much it costs – that’s making something a product.

The sculpture is more like an abstract drawing or a gesture. I like something being quite gestural. A lot of the shapes were bent around my body because we don’t have metal rollers, so I just bent the metal bars over my leg. It’s quite funny, you have to balance on one foot and bend it over your shoulder and make all these motions. There’s loads of action in it that you don’t see.

The actual process of making is an embodied experience. 

Yes, it’s so physical. I was absolutely wrecked doing it. Every day is welding, then you’re backstitching. It’s interesting to revisit because they’re the environments that I grew up in and informed an expectation of what gender should be – even though that makes no sense ever. They’re the actions that happened within those gendered spaces. It’s nice to centre those in the middle of the RA. That feels like a lot of progress to me, but it’ll take a while for people to get what it is and what’s happening with it.

I was going to ask that. What do you think is the significance of spotlighting these different identities within an institution like the RA? It’s a British institution and you’re talking about Irishness and queer identities. How do you think that fits into the gallery?

I don’t know if it’s ever about trying to fit into an institution but acknowledging the histories that you come with and not fetishising them at all. The reason I like the RA and why I said “yes” to it is because they have a free art school. It’s highly competitive, but there’s the sense that it puts art first. That’s really important with the way the world is now, so I think it was a good thing to be a part of.

There’s a selection process where anyone in the country and overseas can apply to be in the Summer Exhibition. I think you almost can’t curate it, and that breaks the system of what fine art shows are supposed to be. My work is probably very conceptual and nothing like they’ve had before, but it’s great that it sits alongside traditional paintings and things that people expect. It’s nice to be able to challenge that and I hope it challenges some people’s prejudices about what those things might be. With any institution, I always find it a bit tricky because of where their money might come from. But you also need to be in those institutions because they’re taken so seriously and that’s where public perception shifts.

You mentioned how the installation is suspended. I found that really interesting when I was looking at it. When people walked past, their movements created a shift in the sculpture. I think that creates a contemplative experience. How have you seen spectators respond to your work? 

People just consume images all the time – that’s the way the world operates. It’s a sexy object that people can take photos of because it’s huge, and I understand there’s a simple impact value to it. But people have been spending a lot of time with it, and I really appreciate that. You automatically start thinking about your own relationship to it.

I always like making things – whether they’re garments for the body, performance vessels, sculptures, or mobiles – that are slightly out of your control. For a lot of the processes that I use, I’ll stitch things together or sew things in a certain way so that I lose a bit of control, and I get what I get. I like that with this piece as well. It’s always changing, and I can’t control it. When people walk past or there’s a certain energy in the room, it’s a sign of things happening around us that we’re not aware of. I’m interested in how limited our understanding of the world is because we keep leaning into language as this thing we can communicate with. I actually think language is something that endlessly fails to communicate because it can’t communicate a feeling properly. With something that’s moving and constantly changing, it speaks to these things in the ether that are constantly changing, and we don’t even realise. I suppose it’s a bit mystical, but I also believe all that [laughs].

“The most important thing is to be independent and not service this industry. For me, it feels like we’re at the worst point in fashion in terms of the amount of production that happens, and the number of brands that are just churning stuff out.” – Richard Malone

I guess that shows the importance of experiencing it in-person rather than on Instagram. 

100%.

Would you encourage more fashion designers to explore their practice through the lens of art? Do you think your experience in the art world has impacted your fashion practice?

Yeah, they always feed each other; they’re very much the same language. I think that’s already happened with a lot of young designers. They’ve taken a much more interesting path and want to question things a bit more. It feels like a little community where people are very independent. The most important thing is to be independent and not service this industry. For me, it feels like we’re at the worst point in fashion in terms of the amount of production that happens, and the number of brands that are just churning stuff out.

With the question of art and fashion being interconnected, I don’t think a Picasso print on a dress, a collaboration, or a fashion designer curating an exhibition is the same thing. That’s very much about commerce. It’s strange to be someone that practices in both spaces because I don’t think fashion knows what to do with me. Some people do – some journalists and writers are very closely following what I do because it’s not resolved. But for younger designers or artists, or however people want to describe themselves, I think you have to find your point of view and stick to it. It’ll obviously change and alter, but don’t be afraid of the process – that’s the most enjoyable bit.

“No one wants to be on fucking Instagram anymore; no one wants to be on any of them anymore. Don’t do things for that – it’s a corporation that you don’t need in your life.” – Richard Malone

Lastly, do you have any advice for young designers that are looking up to you and your journey?

Be very careful about whose opinions you follow and let in and try not to lean into having every prize and award. I’m not motivated by winning any more awards or prizes, and I never really was. To be honest, they always just gave me money, and as a working-class person that can’t be underestimated.

For young people, I think it’s probably quite hard to study now because of the cost. I don’t think I’d really engage with it – I’d probably try to do it independently now.

I also think people tell you that you need to be posting on social media, or doing TikTok or whatever the next one is. That’s a choice – this will all come and go. No one wants to be on fucking Instagram anymore; no one wants to be on any of them anymore. Don’t do things for that – it’s a corporation that you don’t need in your life.

“There are a lot of decisions you could make where you’d get an awful lot of money very quickly, and I think I’ve always resisted them. You can, it is possible.” – Richard Malone

So, you won’t be making a TikTok account any time soon?

I won’t, that’s for sure. Also, I have friends who’ve become influencers, but it’s just a life choice. It’s not about being judgemental of people because I know you can make money from that. But what do you do when that trend ends? Put lots of cushions around yourself so that the thing you’re worried about is the work, and that’s it. That’s really what I am – I think people think I’m nuts because of that. I’m so much about the work and that’s it. That’s all there is. That’s the output. There are a lot of decisions you could make where you’d get an awful lot of money very quickly, and I think I’ve always resisted them. You can, it is possible.

 

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