bodyType

customContents

entityId

entityUuid

articlePageQuery

filter

article

articleBaseAdvertisingInfoArticle

articleListArticle

articleSeoArticle

helpersCheckIsPostiesArticle

hooksArticleAcknowledgementGateOverlayArticle

hooksTrackPageViewArticle

hooksContentInterestArticle

articleLinkingDataContent

articleSchemaContent

liveArticle

advertZone

sentiment

contentLock

topics

types

sections

moreOnThisArticles

urlAlias

commentCount

sponsorType

authorLocations

authors

paywallTypes

corrections

displaySlideShow

multimediaEmbed

printHeadline

seriesContainer

socialHeadline

headline

flag

firstTopic

glossary

flattenTypeIds

publishedDate

additionalInfoBoxes

images

image

relatedLinks

relatedNewsletters

__typename

createdDate

sponsor

factSheets

series

disableOffPlatformContent

published

updatedDate

summary

subHeadline

body

keywords

copyrighted

customTimezone

liveContents

David Phair

I'm a trained artist yet I don't think I really learned much at art college in Britain in the 1980s.

At Brighton, where I did a degree in fine arts, they messed around with your head and were a bunch of alcoholics.

They stuck you in a studio, didn't prepare you for the outside world and didn't teach you much in the way of technique.

I also know now that you need business acumen in order to make it as an artist and it was crazy that we weren't made aware of that.

Sometimes I wouldn't see a tutor for three weeks. They'd manipulate you as well in that if you disagreed with them or they didn't like what you were producing, you'd be ignored.

I still enjoyed myself, though, because going to art college was like a breath of fresh air - it meant you could dye your hair, pierce your ears and develop an attitude.

I grew  up in suburban London  and went to Catholic schools which were intimidating.

I can remember going to confession at the age of seven and wondering what I'd say.

You'd go into the confessional box and there'd be this crazy priest. It was all so archaic and struck the fear of God into me.

I remember one teacher in particular at primary school. She was called Mrs McNamara and was always preaching about God, saying He'd be watching over us if we did anything wrong.

From an early age I liked to paint and draw.

Secondary school meant more religion, this time with the De La Salle religious order.

Before each lesson we'd have to stand and say a prayer.

It was all too much and by the age of 11 or 12, I'd decided it was rubbish and became rebellious.

I stopped going to church and started to question everything, which of course didn't go down well with the brothers.

I also became a little subversive. To wind up the brothers I'd camp it up with another boy which led to raised eyebrows.

Luckily, I'd discovered the art department which was in the old Victorian gym and separate from the rest of the school.  It was like a haven.

I went on to do art as one  of my A-levels although my careers master tried to dissuade me.  Art was seen as recreation, not a career.

And that led me in turn to Brighton to do a degree, after which I didn't immediately become an artist.  The experience there left me confused, not wanting to paint and lacking in confidence.

After a few years of working as a waiter, I realised I needed to get back on track and I started doing a few decorative projects. Then I found myself diversifying into murals and eventually back to fine arts.

A lot of work which looks at death is macabre but in this exhibition I wanted to explore it in a more beautiful way.

I'm sure some people may look at my work and think a kid could do that.

Gerard Bookle's Shadows and Light is being staged at Sin Sin Fine Art, G/F 1 Prince's Terrace, Mid-Levels from March 15 to 29. He was talking to David Phair.



'It struck the fear of God into me'