Meet the maker: artist and exhibition curator Syrett

from Style of Wight Issue 73 November/December 2021

People with style: with

Theshining

Nail varnish is a tricksy, risky medium to work with. But for artist and exhibition curator Syrett it has opened new doors in both fashion and art

By Roz Whistance Pictures Julian Winslow

When you arrive at the house of an artist whose medium is nail varnish you expect to meet somebody effete, petite. You expect his art to be ephemeral, superficial, dashed off perhaps. Nail varnish, after all, puts on and takes off an image instantly. So much for preconceptions. Syrett is tall, substantial, casually dressed, northern. He is welcoming, with a dry humour and conversation that reflects a huge and varied life in the arts. So the intricacy with which he describes his work comes as something of a surprise. “Look at this, it’s like ice cream – and that opalescence, that’s where there are tiny pyramids reflecting the light. So pretty – like sweeties. See this little raised bit – that slight roughness like old skin? Those are happy accidents and I really like those.” Syrett creates roundels of moonscapes, skies, otherworldly landscapes, oceanic dreams: they become what you see. The iridescence of colour, the captured movement, the spikes of pigment create works that apparently glow beyond the two dimensions of the board.

Going with the happy accidents and moving with the swirls that life throws up is something of a theme. “I graduated in textiles from Liverpool, and ran Icon, the dance nightclub there. At the same time, I became a

freelance textile designer through an agency in New York.” Lack of work in Liverpool led him, via Amsterdam, to London, where he became a fashion stylist. “Trade stuff led to styling lots of pop stars and celebrities, doing Top of the Pops, things like that. I ended up being a bit of a presenter on really bad daytime TV,” he grins. A girlfriend led him back home to Harrogate where he started to do artwork. “A group exhibition I was in was with a lot of famous street artists, like Blek le Rat and Nick Walker, and because I was the local boy it elevated me.” All was looking rosy, until Syrett discovered he had cancer. “I spent quite a lot of time in hospital, in a medically induced coma, and basically lost everything.” Physical recovery was intense and slow, and a side effect of all this was a nervous breakdown. It was his counsellor who suggested he started painting again: “She forced me back into the studio. I wasn’t really interested in it. So I started to play with nail varnish.” Why? “I’d started to advise some artists in the fashion world and was looking at beauty from a sponsorship perspective. Someone gave me a whole bag of nail varnish and said: ‘I’m sure you can do something with this.’” So Syrett did, and posted the results on an Instagram account. He did some prints, and that started him off. “They

“My work is much more affected by the seasons here. You have to slow down, and I kind of like that.”

became quite popular,” he says, and the little bottles he began with were replaced by more industrial-sized tanks. Even so, there are certain practicalities: nail varnish sets quickly so speed is key. “First I weigh each colour. Darker colours are much heavier, so move slower, so you have to put something that moves quicker next to them.”

Then it becomes about dance, about moving. “I tend to pour it so it’s not near the edges, because that makes me move it, to go there.” Extraordinarily, given the necessary working speed, he has created pieces up to two metres in size. “I’m essentially a printer of textiles so I like the stuff I can’t control along with what I do control.” One of the less benevolent things he couldn’t control is fire. “I used to use a hairdryer to dry parts I liked. One day with fluff on the hairdryer and fumes of the nail varnish – well, I set the studio on fire.” His studio survived, but a burned leg meant another spell in hospital. “One good thing came out of it,” he says. “My nurse brought her husband to the exhibition I’d been preparing. It turned out he was one of the Bradford Six with Hockney!” Today his work is highly sought after, whether originals or prints. He is beginning to be influenced by the Japanese pottery technique of kintsugi, where broken pots – or in Syrett’s case torn prints reworked with gold leaf – essentially become originals. Success in art, however unusual the medium, is hard to achieve but Syrett’s varied career and contacts have come into their own: “I’m a poacher/ gamekeeper kind of artist,” he says. “I understand the gallery side so I’m always looking for connections to help with the marketing.” Sometimes he’s more of a curator, sometimes more of an artist. “I’ve just had a show at Blacks, a private members club in Soho, where I teamed 10 artists with 10 perfume brands. That’s moving to JOVOY, the perfume store in Mayfair, and then to Paris.” Being here on the Island has changed him. “My work is much more affected by the seasons here. You have to slow down, and I kind of like that.” One repercussion of the virus was that the perspex Syrett uses for his work became prohibitively expensive – it is in demand as screens in shops, pubs and restaurants. But he found wooden bases work just as well in most cases, which fits with his environmental

concerns. He swims most days, and the plastic debris he pulls from the sea has a new life as stencils to add another dimension to his poured nail varnish pieces. He’s also started to work with Graphenstone, an environmentally positive paint that removes CO2 from the air. Changed, too, is his way of thinking about the traditional diktats of the fashion world. “In naming my pieces I was keeping that tradition going of spring/summer, autumn/winter collections, but living here that doesn’t seem appropriate.” He adds: “I think the idea that there’s going to be fashion as we know it, with catwalks and new looks, throwaway fashion, I think that’s got to change – it’s about what you need.”

While his move to St Lawrence means he has stepped physically away from the art and fashion hotspots, he is still watching the way the market is changing, and working within it to effect change.

trimmings All the

Come one, come all, and discover the very best local food and drink from across the Isle of Wight this Christmas. From farm field to festive table, larder staples to luxurious menus – you’ll find it all here.

Festive food stories

The best Christmas cake ever by Richmonds Bakery’s Immy Bawdon (page 39), caramelised Christmas sprouts by Living Larder’s Will Steward (page 45), Christmas crunch granola with Balance + Glo’s Evelyn Joyce (page 47), and Sicilian Pasta di Mandorla by Caffe Isola’s Viviana Burgess (page 48)