His works replace seriousness with humour, pretension with absurdity, and regiment with experimentation. Whether he’s threading a rug or scaling a large canvas, Teddy tries not to overthink things. In anticipation of his new collection ‘FATHERLAND’, we sat down with Teddy to discuss his career so far, making art with child-like abandon, and why he never planned on being an artist.

To start off, could you give us a brief explanation of your background as an artist?

My mum is very arty. She used to be a fashion designer, so we grew up quite creative. My parents were also pretty strict on tv and computer games so we were only allowed to draw. Now I’m so thankful they were.

At school, I was alright at other things but art was always what I wanted to do; I never thought I actually would. Then I did an art foundation which eventually led to me doing visual communications at Leeds Arts University which all seems like I wanted to go into art but I still didn’t think ‘I want to be an artist’. When I was thinking of quitting, I got made redundant which [to become a full-time artist] was perfect!

Give us a glimpse into your process - if you could sum up your artistic practice in one word, what would it be?

It sounds bad but maybe childlike? When I was in Denmark I would go into the studio for eight hours a day, all day, everyday. When you’re doing that, obviously there are bits of detail, but you’re trying to be as rough and free as possible. Children are so unfiltered and unapologetic; the way they do things isn’t overly analytical. So I try to emulate that in my practice which, as an adult, is quite uncomfortable to do.

You mentioned Denmark. You recently completed a residency at Viborg Kunsthal. How did that influence your art-making?

When I was in Denmark, I wasn’t really talking to that many people, especially in the beginning. So I would spend all day trying to tap into the brain of a child. I would do that seven days a week. It was genuinely almost like meditation. Really f***ed up meditation, but meditation still.

Entering that space where you’re kind of freed from all constraints and the context that your art fits into, or concerns about representation. You sort of get into a rhythm. There were days where you’d go in and know whatever you do it’s going to be good, and then you’d be on a roll for a while. And then it would go bad again. But I feel like that’s how it works.

You initially became known for your rugs. How did you get into rug-making?

I was sewing a lot in Leeds because my mum bought me a sewing machine for Christmas one year. It shouldn’t be a stereotype, but it was sort of like, ‘I don’t have a daughter so I’m just going to give my youngest son a sewing machine and hope that he picks it up!’ And then I started making rugs about four years ago as a hobby. And it was always just a hobby; I never intended for it to be my job. And I just made a sh*tload whilst I was working full time. And then someone approached me saying ‘you should exhibit these, you’ve got so much’. And I had this massive pile so I said yes and it went well.

What is the highlight of your career so far?

It’s a short career so far! But probably getting my first studio. It really felt like it had turned from a hobby to a job. Having my own space was so exciting because when you’ve got the space you just fill it.

My first studio was my bedroom and my second was my friend’s bike shed. And then a month before the show opened I got my studio in London Fields. You can work a lot more easily and free when you can make a mess. Rent in general is so expensive now and it was a lot to have that studio. But then it also motivates you to work because you need to pay the rent so you need to make art.

With funding being pulled from the arts and so many artists struggling to make a living, it is perhaps one of the hardest times to break into the art world. Could you share your perspective as a full-time artist?

It was never planned. I’m obviously so grateful that I can just about survive doing it as a full-time job. But I also think, because this hasn’t been my dream forever, if it goes wrong and I have to get a “proper” job again, I’m sort of fine with that. It seems pessimistic, but it’s more just realistic. You meet so many people [artists] that you admire or idolise, even people who are really famous, and then you find out that they all have part-time jobs. It’s quite comforting.

‘FATHERLAND’ is on show at Alveston Fine Arts Gallery in Notting Hill until 27th October.

*This interview has been edited for brevity and clarity.

IMAGES USED

1. The artist in his studio in Viborg Denmark during a residency earlier this year

2. Shot of the artist’s studio in Denmark

3. ⁠PUB, 205 x 146 cm. 2023.

4. ⁠Various works from FATHERLAND on show at Alveston Fine Art.

5. Studio portrait

Interview recorded 3rd October 2024, published 8th October 2024.