What have you been looking at lately? Not worked on, just noticed?
I’ve been looking at copper nails in a tree, red pines on my way home from the studio, and the priceless glitter on the lake. I’ve noticed that the robin is smaller than you think, and I’ve been struck by the violence of nature and the struggle of aging. I’ve also seen a huge amount of expensive cars around town, but also young people holding the door open.
Do you remember when clothes first started to mean something to you?
When I was ten and started dressing like some kind of punk, but in my grandmother’s clothes. I looked ridiculous, but girls seemed to like it.
What do you react to first in a garment — before you have time to think?
That it’s black and has no logos. Or that it says, “hello, take me.”
What makes you keep wearing something?
To me, clothes are the second skin. Once I find a favorite, I wear it until, in the end, it can serve as a rag in the studio. Expensive and enduring is the best. Clothes should last, the cycle is beautiful. You build a relationship. The clothes become memories, a kind of diary.
What changes when something you’ve created is worn, rather than only looked at?
Tiny, tiny bridges are built. I appreciate being allowed into people’s everyday lives, come with them to work, or being present at the first kiss.
Is there anything about putting your work on garments that feels wrong?
I’m sure there is, but I always listen to the end. A suggestion can sound strange at first, but with the right reins it can bloom. I am curious by nature and say yes until I say no. But I don’t want to be controlled, and I don’t take on assignments my signature can’t withstand.
When you work, what is it you’re actually trying to get at?
I am always looking for something I didn’t know existed. It’s a wonderful feeling to look at a wet painting and think, where did you come from, how did this happen. The journey itself drives me forward, not the goal. Signing a work is almost the hardest part, the game is over, brushes must be cleaned, and the food eaten. In principle, I do the same thing now as I did when I was seven, it is usually driven by desire. I know no other way.
Do you think about the person who will see your work? Or wear it?
No, I hand over the baton with warmth, then I leave the stadium. That’s best way. I create something I myself would want to see and experience, and if I’m lucky, someone else likes what I’ve labored over. It seems it doesn’t have to be harder than that. I once wrote a line: “It doesn’t have to be harder than this, but it is.” Exactly that. In that paradox is where I feel at my best as a creative human being.
What is it about Claes that makes you trust the collaboration?
There aren’t many people like Claes left. He reminds me why I persevere, that everything is possible. Claes is one of the few people I have to slow down, usually it’s the other way around. In a society where we are moving further and further away from the physical meeting, craft, and the tactile, that makes me weary. He just makes me cheery.
What felt natural in this collaboration, and what didn’t?
A bit messy, a bit punk, it can make me anxious but I thrive in that borderland. It’s what makes life a bit more adventurous. Not quite knowing what’s around the corner, but having the feeling that it’s something good, it’s a sweet feeling.
Was there a moment when something “fell into place” in what we were doing?
Claes has the intuition. I think I have it too. A garment, an image, sometimes it’s just right instantly. Like seeing, or dressing in, an old friend. I put on the first sample garment straight away. I wear that T-shirt every day in the studio now. The material against the body is like the fontanelle of a child.
You say you don't care for the commercial side, but you still want your work to be used and worn. How does that add up?"
The T-shirt is the billboard of the people. I want people to wear me. I want to be present. My heart beats for music, and in the world of rock, the T-shirt has always been a central part of the expression.
What would you like these garments to become over time?
Since a T-shirt that has fulfilled its purpose only grows thinner and paler with time—alongside its wearer—I’d say the goal is for it to become a rag in the end. Life is one long erosion; make it beautiful and comfortable
