How Andrew Sutherland turns childhood drawings into knitted mask creations
This is A HOT MINUTE WITH, a quick-fire interview series championing all the rising talent catapulting into fashion, art and music’s fickle stratosphere. From pinch-me moments to bad dates and even worse chat-up lines, think of it as an overindulgent conversation – like the ones you have in sticky club toilets at 4.A.M. Except these guests don’t regret the overshare…
Courtesy of @aaannndddrrreeewww
NAME ANDREW SUTHERLAND
AGE 26
LOCATION Glasgow (but I grew up in Shetland).
STAR SIGN Taurus
LIFE MANTRA Live, Laugh, Love.
In a milieu where the remarkability of the word ‘mask’ ranks roughly on par with car keys, chapstick or chewing gum, Andrew Sutherland’s work is a breath of fresh air. Originally from Shetland, the mask-maker and knitter is the very mirror of the mundane, his vivid, architectural masterpieces with their bright colour palettes, multiple textures and structural experimentation lying somewhere between the novel and the familiar. Inspired by children’s drawings, Sutherland’s masks nostalgically channel the uninhibited, uncomplicated exuberance that comes with youth. Each creation emanates unadulterated fun, with names such as Macaroni Inspector and Octopeyes, but don’t let that blind you to their intricacy. Sutherland himself admits to making a lot of things that are “really time consuming and overcomplicated,” citing a body suit compiled of 50 thermal blankets cut into strips and knitted piece-by-piece over a six-month period.
Ultimately, the clarity of his creative vision rings impressively clear. When asked about his favourite piece so far, Sutherland replied, “I don’t think I could pick a specific piece because it’s all kind of modular. As individual parts, they’re not as interesting but when you bring them all together it can turn into something really cool.” Sutherland’s approach makes you wonder about the potential held in the mundane aspects of day to day. The best advice he would give to someone? “Don’t be scared to pursue your strangest ideas.” Maybe the Macaroni Inspector is the very answer to millennial inertia we’ve all been looking for.
Briony Sturgis: What first got you into knitting?
Andrew Sutherland: In Shetland we had weekly knitting classes in school, but at that time I would never have thought that I would still be doing it 20 years later. When I decided to study textile design at Uni it was a rushed decision, but then when I had a go on a knitting machine, I realised that I seemed to have a knack for it. It just seemed to happen naturally, but it was never something I had planned or saw coming for myself. I still don’t really understand how I got to this stage, but I love the process, I find it very meditative.
BS: You say you get inspiration from children’s drawings. Any particular favourite childhood drawings that you did yourself?
AS: There’s a drawing hanging up in my grandparents’ kitchen that I did when I was about five, titled Monster (wi’ arms for eating up peerie bairns), translated from Shetland dialect - Monster (with arms for eating up little children). I think in a lot of ways children are a lot more creative than adults - I think if I tried to come up with something like this now, I’d totally overthink it. It’s really big, around A1 in size, and basically just a giant blob with 33 arms and a gaping mouth. He’s got a lot of character.
BS: Tell us about the creative process behind the mask Macaroni Inspector?
AS: This was one of the first masks I made. It started off trying to replicate a yellow squiggle shape in a kid’s drawing through crochet, then I thought maybe it would be cool if there were lots of them. It took weeks of constant crocheting it all by hand. The eyes came later, kind of inspired by the odd eyes in my monster drawing, hanging in my granny’s kitchen, and then the idea came to me to put magnifying glasses in the eye holes which I think really made it. I didn’t start out trying to make macaroni but the things I make always end up looking like something else. It’s really disconcerting to wear, and very hot inside. You can only see through the magnifying glasses at the ends of the tubes.
BS: Weirdest thing you own?
AS: It’s hard to pick just one because I’m a massive hoarder and I’ve got a lot of weird stuff I’ve picked up off the street. I’ve got a lot of sad abandoned dolls, or parts of dolls, but the strangest is a hairdressers’ mannequin head - which I’m pretty sure is made of human hair - with a short back and sides and a long, wispy Jesus-esque beard. I found him by the river in the weirdest pile of junk; a pair of children’s shoes, two pairs of adult shoes, some hair dye, some unidentified white powder, empty wine bottles and a can of tuna. I’d love to know what happened there. I put him on top of our Christmas tree this year, which my flat mate at the time hated, but I think he looked pretty good up there.
BS: Biggest fashion faux-pas?
AS: I’ve had a lot, but my worst were definitely in my teenage years. I could never make up my mind whether I wanted to be a punk, a goth or a scene kid so had a bit of everything. I wore baggy black trousers with lots of chains and always wore at least three studded belts, often with a comic strip hoodie and long hair, home cut, backcombed and badly bleached. It wasn’t a good look and in a place like Shetland I think it definitely got noticed.
BS: Favourite childhood cartoon?
AS: I’ve always loved The Simpsons - I still watch it all the time and have seen pretty much every episode. The more I watch it the more I love it.
BS: Feelings towards the pubs opening in three words…
AS: Got mixed feelings.
BS: Style icon?
AS: Mr. Blobby.
BS: Go to snack?
AS: Potato Waffles, cooked in the toaster.
BS: Any last words?
AS: “Everything’s coming up Milhouse.”