Harland Miller will always let you down

“You can rely on me… I’ll always let you down.” Harland Miller declares in one of his famous Penguin book cover inspired paintings. An hour into the first ever Plaster photoshoot, I was starting to think that he had. Harland was a no-show. His assistant kept reassuring me that he would be there shortly. That this was normal for Harland. Finally a phone call came saying he was on his way and that he’d be with us in fifteen minutes. More like an hour. I settled into one of his paint-splattered leather sofas and let my eyes wander.

Located just off the Old Kent Road, Harland’s studio is full of bizarre and wonderful ephemera; a half decaying baby doll perfectly captures his preoccupation with nostalgia and the macabre. A Leeds United scarf draped across a window, a tribute to his Yorkshire roots. Pinned to the walls are photos and proofs of his brilliant and now iconic Penguin book cover series which he began back in 2001. After finishing his debut novel Slow Down Arthur, Stick to Thirty, Harland found himself painting fictitious, deadpan titles based on the covers of old dust jackets of Penguin books as a way to bring together Pop Art, abstraction and his love of the written word.

Harland’s work has an innate ability to make you smile. He draws you in. ‘Love Conquers Nothing’. ‘York, So Good They Named It Once’. You laugh at the unabashed cynicism of the remark. You hold it in your mind for days, then come back to the painting and realise you had it all wrong, you had misread it and a new meaning unfolds. You play with the newly discovered turn of phrase, unaware that it is the work that is playing you. Of course, there is a duality to his phrasing; no matter how crass they can seem, there is always something more powerful and poetic happening underneath. Harland is first and foremost a romantic.

But don’t just take him at his word. Harland’s work demands you read between the lines, or rather behind them. Yes, it’s the phrase that draws you in, but it’s the Rothko-inspired hues in the background that keep you there. The deep purples, the moody greens, they glow, the colours compete, they become explorations of the process of painting itself. It’s what brings them away from being a gimmick into serious painting.

Another hour passes and Harland’s beaten up white Mercedes finally pulls up in front of the studio and out comes the man himself. He’s wearing a long grey overcoat over paint covered jeans and a white vest. He is the epitome of cool and immediately apologises for being so late. Any bubbling resentment from my side for his tardiness slowly subsides as he gives me a warm embrace and hug.

After making us cups of tea with ritualistic dedication he is ready. He is at ease in front of the camera; his former life as a model comes into play as he strikes a multitude of poses and runs a hand through his ash blonde hair. During the shoot, I hand him a felt tip pen and ask if he could do a self-portrait in a minute, he comes back with a paint brush and a giant pot of pink and blue paint and says, “I have a better idea, let’s do it as a painting.” The artist is always right.

Time seems to evaporate within Harland’s world. He regales anecdotes, bamboozling you into thinking he is saying one thing, when in fact he means something entirely different, his conversation an extension of his paintings. He paints his name in giant pink letters to be used for the poster of this issue, he smokes cigarettes, explains sketches for forthcoming paintings… I suddenly realise I had been there for hours. Aware I might be becoming a distraction, I take my leave. As I am in the car home it suddenly dawns the we haven’t got our interview. I call him to explain it. He replies “you already have it, just check your texts.” So there you go, a text interview between myself and Harland. His style and effortless cool hopefully dictate the feel of this issue and give you a sense of the man, showing you his kind hearted nature and joyful spirit … and Harland certainly didn’t let us down.