Transient art: Tony Plant

For anyone who laments the pretentious and contrived nature of so much modern art, this Cornwall-based creator has the antidote

While it’s undeniable that much contemporary art is chiefly concerned with ostentatious displays of ego, attention seeking and an often futile desire for the practitioner’s work to outlive their own existence, there are plenty of artists out there who have a refreshingly pure attitude to their creative vision.

It’s telling that when Cornwall’s so-called ‘environmental artist’ and photographer Tony Plant was studying alongside future YBA stars Gavin Turk and Chris Ofili at the Chelsea College of Art and Design in the 1980s, he shied away from the schmoozing, networking and back-rubbing of London’s trendy art scene in favour of immersing himself in what really mattered – his fine art painting degree. It’s this single-minded, focused attitude that has served him so well and continues to keep him fascinated and passionate about what he does.

A lover of surf, art and photography, he uses nature as his canvas, creating beautifully tangible pieces that are, by definition, fleeting – and it’s this that makes them so vital and captivating. We met this vibrant talent at Relentless Energy Drink Boardmasters 2011, and soon felt compelled to get back in touch to find out more about his imaginative output.

A deep-rooted fascination

Born in Redruth in Cornwall in the early 1960s, Tony Plant says his three-pronged fascinations all date back to his childhood. “I used pocket money to buy a film every week and got my first board at seven,” he tells us in the midst of organising an exhibition and a painting trip to France. “I’ve been surfing ever since then.” Meanwhile, legendary deep-sea diver Jacques Cousteau’s televised exploits set off a creative and imaginative spark in him, particularly the director’s use of sweeping, large-scale shots of exotic locations taken from the air. “At that point I’d never seen aerial photography. I love aerial images of stuff. Some of my favourite paintings are of aerial images from above Cornwall and my favourite artist, Yves Klein, was into getting above the land and looking down on stuff.”

He cites surf as his first true passion, having travelled to Indonesia in the early 1980s to embrace the lifestyle. The purchase of a waterproof camera while in Hong Kong proved initially to be more serendipitous than practical, however. “I didn’t use it very much [at first] as I was surfing all the time,” he recalls. “Then the pace started to take off a little bit and I needed a waterproof camera to get some shots for a project I was working on.”

Before long, his images of big wave surfing were in high demand from various magazines, and his progression into the world of professional photography began to develop organically. His new-found career allowed him to travel to the world’s finest surf spots and indulge both of his passions simultaneously, while his love of painting began to grow in tandem.

Leave no trace

Once satiated by his travels, Plant returned to the UK in the mid-1980s to undertake the aforementioned degree course, and it was here that his modus operandi began to develop. His aim is not for his creations to outlive him, nor for them to be shown to dreary, chin-stroking masses; instead it’s to work within the given parameters of his chosen location, to accept – or rather embrace – the transient nature of the environment, and to reward only himself and anyone lucky enough to pass by.

“Since I left art school I’ve been doing work that gets washed away, I’ve been putting stuff in places to be washed away by waves or taken away by meltwater or blown away by the wind. Just anything that’s there temporarily, so that if you see it, you see it and if you don’t, you don’t. There won’t be any trace of it afterwards either. The coastline is perfect for that; that’s all that happens. Everything changes on the coastline. Nothing is permanent. That’s the idea really. It’s all time-based. Time will either change it or take it away. Ultimately it will make it vanish.”

To that effect, his methods include tree and stone painting, sand carving and water dying, using everything from rivers to beaches and forests as his canvases. There’s a primal edge to much of his work that echoes the origins of art – cave paintings – and a pleasing organic, cyclical feel to what he does. It’s the antidote to high art and stuffy auction rooms. These manipulated landscapes are exhibits that can’t be freighted around the world from gallery to gallery.

A permanent record of a fleeting moment

This said, Plant has decided in recent years to start documenting his outdoor work through photography, building a synergy between his two disciplines. Although there is beauty in something that can only be witnessed first-hand, it’s given him a chance to bring his inspiring, innovative work to audiences around the world. Thank – or blame – the internet for his paradigm shift. Aside from the posterity element, he’s also used natural gifts such as sun (and moon) shadows and volcanic ash as materials in his stunning photography, applying a holistic view to his multifarious creative processes.

“When I left art school I did try and get stuff into galleries for a little while, and I soon got tired,” he recalls. “I don’t need permission to do what I do. I just do it when I want to. It’s just that, in the past few years, I’ve changed the way I present it. I documented very little of it, as I was just doing it for me. Now I feel my work can stand on its own two feet, and I’d like to get it into more traditional spaces where people can see it.”

Working in harmony

“It’s being picked up as environmental, but I don’t think it is,” he says of the tag bestowed upon his work. “I think it’s more that I work in the environment. If I look at a landscape or seascape, I tend not to look at it as a passive thing. It’s not long before I start seeing all the potential. In that sense I’m looking at stuff like a blank canvas. I’m moving around in the environment that I’m looking at.”

He muses that perhaps it’s his long-standing background as a surfer that has given him a love and respect for the environment around him; an awareness that is fortunately on the increase these days. “If you’re a skater or snowboarder you’re in the environment you choose to be in. If you see that environment, you see it as a fragile and vast thing. When you see people raping it and murdering it and using it like a bin and thinking they have right to use it how they like and dump into it what they choose… that whole side is quite an eye-opener when you see what’s going on.”

“I’m working on something at the moment with the Eden Project about sustainability and that whole movement towards looking at the environment and what people do to it, how they exist in it, what they take out and what goes back in. People are becoming more and more interested in it. Relentless Energy Drink Boardmasters this year had a noticeable difference in comparison to last year. I certainly noticed. Low-energy light bulbs, recycled materials on site and so on. If a big festival like Boardmasters is interested in shining a light on the issue, then that can only be a good thing.” For those who might be wondering, Plant uses minute quantities of environmentally safe materials when colour is required in his outdoor work, and he’s extremely sensitive to the areas he chooses, assessing any potential consequences before working his magic.

Needs must

Plant’s busier than ever, with several collaborative projects planned, more work at festivals in the pipeline and, of course, more of his inimitable solo work, all while getting to grips with the joys of social networking. He’s not one to sit around and let life pass him by – as his partner will attest. “I’m not doing this,” he says. “My wife will throw me out of the house and say: ‘Look, don’t come back until you’ve got something done,’ because I’m unbearable. If I wasn’t able to do what I’m doing, I don’t know what I’d do. I’d be awful to be around.”

“Doing what I do gives me such a charge of energy. It’s quite liberating – just doing what I do because I love it and not having anything to prove. I feel I can see potential and possibilities in everything I’m looking at. Basically, just do what you love and keep doing it. It’s brilliant.”