Ben Brumpton is interested in what holds his hometown together

An interview with artist, Ben Brumpton.

For anyone who’s just discovering your work — how would you describe it?

A reinterpretation of everything I've been influenced by or interested in for the past 27 years 

Tell us about where you’re from, and where you’re now based. Do those places show up in your work?

I was born in Scunthorpe, but have lived in Manchester for 10 years now. There's a lot of negative discourse around the town, it's so easy for people to say "Scunthorpe's a shit hole." I've said it in the past, but I've realised I don't want to add to that kinda conversation, it doesn't really say or solve anything. 

My most recent pieces that I have been working on heavily focus on Scunthorpe. The steelworks has been going through a tough time recently, which is nothing new, but I've never seen it get as much news coverage as it did this time.  It's only now I know what I want to say in my work about home. I'm not trying to pretend it's paradise, but I think it deserves better than to be the butt of the joke. It's had a rough time, yeah, and there's things that need addressing but I hope that the conversation can shift from this tired, destructive tone and start to ask why it's perceived that way. I'm interested in looking at and what holds it together, even when it's falling apart. 

Your recent piece involving the Royal Mail postbox caught our attention — can you tell us the story behind it? 

It goes way back. When I was a kid, I was given my granddads stamp album and my dad's childhood collection of first day covers (full sets of stamps bought as a collectors set when they're first issued). I thought they were the coolest things in the world. I also had a paper round as you do, which stoked the fire.

Then years later while studying graphic design I was looking into the Royal Mail and that was the catalyst. It took over my whole life. After hours spent in the depths of eBay I collected a full postie uniform, and bought a 1970's Royal Mail push bike. I'm a collector in general but when it comes to postal ephemera it's endless. I finished university and it was a bit anti-climactic because of lockdown and all that tackle. I could have easily called it a day with the project. But I didn't, I kept going and going... and going. The post boxes came after university so it's a good job I didn't stop. The end goal has always been to release a book of work, but it's grown and changed as I've found new parts of postal design that deserve attention. I'm the closest to done I have ever been, closer than last week anyway. 

You seem to play a lot with British iconography. Why are these cultural references important to you?

It's hard to avoid when looking at institutions like the Royal Mail, it carries a sense of tradition and all looks quite ceremonial and regal. It's more about rethinking what the symbols mean when taken out of their original setting and seeing who they speak to. I think of my grandma's kitchen and all the plates on the walls and how they'd feel totally different hung up in a kitchen featured in The World of Interiors. That's how I think about what I take from the Royal Mail and put in my "kitchen".

It's important to remember where you're from, especially when you've moved away and there's all this new stuff being introduced to you all the time. So, keeping the thread of home throughout my work I don't think I can ever forget, it's a part of me. Iron. 

You create the artwork and design for More Song, the Bradford poetry reading group. How did that collaboration come about, and what’s it like designing for literary events?

Tom Branfoot who founded  More Song is a very good friend of mine, we lived together for two years while studying and saw a lot of each other's creative processes. We never actually worked together during that time, but I always had a feeling it would happen one day.  Then More Song came about and Tom gave me a call. Designing for events is more than just making a poster for Instagram to get lost in the algorithm. I've designed bookmarks and pamphlets which arguably travel more than the posters. 

Is there a connection between poetry and your visual work? Do words or phrases ever spark ideas for you?

Massively. Whenever I hear something that pricks my ear, it gets written down and saved for when I need it. I've worked in two pubs in Manchester and the regulars were a goldmine for quotes and phrases. I'd finish my shift with a receipt covered in things they had said - actually the piece I'm working on at the minute includes a quote from a regular called Tony (R.I.P). I've been sitting on some gold for a while.

Who or what are your biggest influences right now — whether that's artists, writers, designers or something completely unexpected?

Buildings are a big influence on the aesthetics of my work, The Peveril of the Peak pub and The Midland Hotel have these beautiful exteriors that I think about regularly. When it comes to ideology behind my work, the opening track Predetermined Definitions on Rainy Miller's latest album left its mark for sure. His outlook on his hometown was something that resonated with me. I remember in an interview he said "You have to romanticise where you’re from. You’ve got to properly lean into the romanticisation. That is everything.”

What’s your dream project — something you haven’t done yet but would love to?

An official commission from the Royal Mail, obviously. Honestly off the top of my head I just want to work with people whose work I admire and I’m sure I will meet more of them as time goes on and conversations are had.

When you’re not busy making art, where would we find you?

In The Peveril of the Peak, knocking the ivories about, or stood staring up at the Midland Hotel.

Follow Ben Brumpton here.