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Val Denham’s Autobiography / BiographyI was very inebriated when I did my interview for The Royal College of Art. I’d got there two hours early and consequentially spent time sat on the steps of the Albert memorial working my way through a couple of bottles of cider. From my point of view the interview seemed to go well. All twelve tutors sat and laughed at my answers. As I left the room though, a sudden instant drunken gloom descended and I thought, “Shit! I’ve really messed that up”. I passed. This is the story of my life. There were twelve tutors in the room and perhaps because I’d been spotted in the loos putting my make-up on, I later found out that the rumours had started straight away that a drag queen was applying for a place. …………………………………………………………….. Side by side two televisions sets are switched on in the living room, my Mother and Father are watching a set each tuned to different channels. I told my Mother I wasn’t sure if it was a dream or a memory. “No” she said, “that’s right, he liked his sport and I liked my programmes.” It is no wonder I grew up strange. Duality is the key to every aspect of my life. ……………………………………………………………. There are two keys to understanding the mind of Val Denham. There is the Obsessive Compulsive Disorder and the duality. Obsessive Compulsive Disorder has a major impact on his day-to-day life and his creativity, (how’s this for irony? He’s just dusted the screen as I type about his brain!) Val believes that the creative process is in itself a form of neurosis dependent on Seritonin levels. To begin to understand his duality do this; if he takes an attitude and you cannot understand it, then find it’s opposite, for then you will begin to understand. Duality runs through every aspect of his being. Born a boy but for many months after his birth, his Mother dressed him as a girl. Sometimes she thinks it’s her fault that he is like he is. It isn’t, It’s biological. ………………………………………………………………………………………………… I was born on November the fourteenth 1957. Sarto Place in Leeds, Yorkshire, now demolished. My first memories are of my Dad leaning over my pram to blow smoke in my ear. He later told me that this was a cure for earache, how did he know that I had earache!? I couldn’t even speak yet! I remember the stuffed Panda bear and the yellow duck. As I grew older I realised that I preferred my own company. Other children seemed a bit rough, climbing trees, getting dirty. Best to stay indoors, watching the telly or drawing, reading Batman or just dreaming. My best friend was cousin Joan who lived next door. She was older than me, but a true best pal. We would make tents out of bed sheets, or light fires, go shoplifting, exciting stuff! I hated school! It was a big old Victorian building. One afternoon playtime I thought I saw a green tinge to the sky. Other boys really like football! I wrote L.U.F.C on my rucksack, all the boys had that, it means Leeds United Football Club, now I know what it stands for, but for years I wondered what this lufc thing was. I wasn’t unpopular, other kids liked me to draw cars or naked women for them and I could tell very scary ghost stories. It’s just that I didn’t really fit in. I was a weirdo, still am. In 1965 my Brother arrived on the scene, I was eight, he’s now taller than me! My favourite programmes on the television at the time were, “The Outer Limits”, “Dr Who”, “The Twilight Zone” and “The Munsters” all weirdo fodder I know. In 1970, I went to Harrington High Secondary School in Leeds, an all boys’ school, wow was that a shit hole. Still, the art teacher (Mr. Butler) suggested that I apply for Art College when my time at Harrington High was over, so it wasn’t all bad. I did rugby once (and once only) NEVER AGAIN!!!! Kicking my lovely legs! Bastards! and such a dirty game. Very unpleasant, don’t ever try it. My last memory of Harrington High (or Cow Close as it was really called before they changed it’s name) was of the teachers calling my friend Mick and myself back on the last day. We put two fingers up. Forever. I broke my leg, a double fracture when I was 15, roller-skating, don’t ever try it. Both Jacob Kramer Art College and Bradford Art College accepted me. My entire life is constructed brick by brick upon a single whim, a single choice. This way or that way? Both choices are right and both have their own merits. With myself it was the architecture of Bradford College that decided for me. My first wife, my children, my homes, my jobs and my evolution teeter upon the architecture of Bradford College. A pretty entrance to Grove Building (now a library), so much more attractive than Jacob Kramer in Leeds. Perhaps it’s just that the sun was shining that day in 1974 when I met the building walking up that hill. That’s when I went funny, art school. I met other people like myself who were odd. I was pathologically shy, Gail took me under her wing and for the first time I had a real girlfriend. She finished with me when I started to change into a monster. I dyed my hair, I wore make up. Students and tutors told me that I was a genius. Who was I to disagree? My parents kicked me out of home when I was 19. Boy was I a handful. When I left Bradford College, I went to live in a house that we called “Kipper Villas” “Hit The Ripper with a kipper” was our motto. There was Antal, Fiona, Kim, Elita and myself, all living in a crazy family. The girls went out to work, whilst Antal and I did our make up and made strange music. It was pretty wild I can tell you. Shortly after, I was back at art college, but this time in London at The Royal College of Art. I got a “Master of Arts” degree, a lot of good that did me. At the RCA, I did painting, printing and perfomance art. “Coum Transmissions” and my old friend Genesis P.Orridge inspired the performance art bit that I did there. I met Genesis in 1979, when I went down for my interview at the RCA. It was at the RCA that I first formed a band with Mike Wells, later of “Greater Than One” and “Tricky Disco” fame called “The Death and Beauty Foundation” I got married in January 1980 to Elita, we were married for 21 years until our divorce. She finished with me when I started to change into a monster. I left the Royal College of Art in 1982 and embarked on my freelance artist phase. That’s when I did all those record covers for Marc Almond and Throbbing Gristle, etc. I had a job for a year as an archivist, photographing graveyards and churches. I also learnt about the joys of alcoholism. My colleague Peter taught me about physics and God. We watched as a vicar came toward us shimmering and undulating in the heat from the grass burning between the gravestones. The sky so cobalt blue, the fire orange as it parted the waves. “Why is the grass on fire?” we enquired, “Lawnmowers are too wide for these narrow strips of grass and weed” was this dark vision of a holy mans reply. “The Death and Beauty Foundation” eventually became “Silverstar Amoeba” a group that had Oli Novadnieks and myself as the only permanent members. We are now known simply as Val and Oli. (clever!) Then after the archivist job, I got a proper job with the Council. Consumer Protection Services, Welfare Benefits Unit. I was the only graphic artist. That lasted 13 years, until the bastards made me redundant. Walthamstow Council it was. I spent most of the time drawing my own Tranart as they were paying me to suffer. In 1987 my daughter was born, that forced me to grow up somewhat. An Angel sent from Heaven above. I was painting and recording on four track tape all the time, sometimes with Mr. ace guitar Oli and sometimes just solo. We did many gigs, supporting groups such as “Psychic TV”, “Einsturzende Neubauten” and even “The Virgin Prunes” at The Hammersmith Palais. In 1990 my beautiful son was born, that forced me to grow up somewhat. That boy will break so many hearts, without a doubt. During the 1990’s I went mad. I saw a psychologist called Loretta, and discovered that I have a severe Obsessive Compulsive Disorder problem. I also have a gender identity thing going on, no kidding? Yes, I clean and tidy and straighten things a lot. I’m incurable, and basically do I really want to be cured? Would I still be me? Gail loves me just as I am and the house is nice and tidy. It influences my art. Ahhhh………….who wants to be normal anyway? A square, no thanks. So yeah………I got divorced in 2001. I came back to Yorkshire after two decades in London. The prodigy returns. I’d lost my job with the council, I lost my kids, wife and home, sod it. I was going back to my roots. Now I live in Bradford near the countryside and cows. I get married again at the end of July 2004 to my first girlfriend Gail, and all is just peachy now in the wonderful and peculiar world of Val Denham. |
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