Mel Brimfield

Tell us about this collaboration with us at Selfridges.

I was excited about the weirdness of inserting an artwork into Selfridges. There was something about having to produce an object that has an immediate connection with an audience of passers-by that I really liked the challenge of. The Selfridges Concierge desk is at the base of The Art Block. As soon as I came into the Duke Street entrance, I immediately thought, how might it be destroyed? For some people, that would be a kind of detraction from the artwork, but I quite immediately liked the idea of involving the narrative of the store somehow. I enjoyed the fact that, after a while, the staff would forget that it was there.

What aspect of slapstick appeals to you most?

Everyone understands slapstick. You don’t have to have any art knowledge to understand the idea of a boulder about to flatten a concierge desk. You set up a situation, and then it fails. So, I was thinking about those moments in those cartoons where Wile E. Coyote will paint a tunnel face, and he wants the Road Runner to run into it and collapse, but miraculously it actually turns into a tunnel. So, it’s this kind of idea of the elastic nature of the physical world that’s suggested in those cartoons, and they’re all kind of around slapstick. So, there were those kinds of thoughts – the immediacy of a body in peril.

What inspired you when creating your work for Selfridges?

For this work, particularly, it’s [20th-century illustrator] W. Heath Robinson. His work has persisted because it’s so delightful. In this context, it was the joy of it because, you know, the world is complicated and difficult right now. Selfridges seems like a place you can go; it’s about fantasy and desire and wanting to live a different life. It’s about aspiration. The Skate Bowl blew my mind – I couldn’t believe it. It made me laugh my head off when I saw that. So, it’s like this idea of resilient joy at a time in our history where it’s just pretty brutal. It sounds really slight, but I just wanted to bring a moment of joy.

What drew you to W. Heath Robinson’s work?

A lot of it is attached to wartime resilience, I think. There’s a make-do-and-mend, let’s-keep the-flag-flying-and-be-cheerfully-resilient quality about it. Even though there’s a giant world war, it’s a retreat to a fantasy of keeping the home fires burning. Something about that really draws people to it. And the illustrations are so intricate; they move through all these stages, and you can follow them like a diagram. There’s something about a testament to British garden shed engineering about it as well, you know? There’s a problem to solve. It’s always a ludicrous solution that has so many parts and it’s always put together with domestic objects.

The centre piece of ‘Slapstick Generator Part I’ is a giant boulder. Tell us about how that’s being created. 

The art fabricators for the boulder are called Plenderleith Scantlebury; they have experience with making props for Wallace and Gromit. I thought, who better to make something that needs to look really funny immediately than them? It’s friendly and funny immediately, for that instant apprehension moment when the shopper comes in. Even if that’s all that happens, it’s a win.

What inspires you day to day?

The comedic potential of objects is always a thing for me. I take lots of pictures – just of objects you encounter in the street. Or, for example, I was taking pictures of Princess Leia garden ornaments the other day in Homebase. They were so weird in amongst the gnomes. It’s that world of objects having their own secret life, Toy Story-style. There’s something about the joyfulness of objects and the narratives that they suggest, and the fact that they’re kind of mute observers of things. If you think about some of your favourite objects, they’re always there, judging you. The body’s relationship to objects is something that very much inspires me.  

With work as layered and absurdist as yours, how do you know when it’s finished?

That’s a good question and, unfortunately, I just keep cooking, cooking, cooking, and then usually have to take things out! But I begin from this position of maximalism, otherwise it’s a bit joyless. I always overegg and overhit everything that I do.

If you could create a machine to complete any mundane task, what would it be?

My flat is so small, I can’t imagine the luxury of having a giant object to complete something simple!

See Mel’s work on The Art Block at The Duke Street entrance of the Accessories Hall on G until October 2024.

About The Art Block

The Art Block is our dedicated public art space, located behind the Concierge desk on G at Selfridges London. From the intriguing to the divisive, The Art Block has hosted pieces by the likes of Holly Hendry, Matthew Darbyshire, William Darrell and Gray Wielebinski. The 2024 Art Block is curated in collaboration with Yorkshire Sculpture Park’s Associate Director, Programme, Helen Pheby.