22 year old creative from North Yorkshire, Corbin Shaw, is a contributing artist for the London based young artists group named Guts Gallery. The Central Saint Martins Fine Art graduate creates work surrounding the nostalgia that encompasses British Northern culture. Corbin grew up in Sheffield, a post-industrial city, in which he explains as “one cannot escape a sense of nostalgia – the city pines for its past in the coal mines and the steel trade, industries now lost in post-Thatcher Britain”. His work is a paradox that addresses the expectations of masculinity from his personal perspective as a young man living in a community driven by ‘lad’ culture and football.

What initially drew you towards the arts?

I didn’t grow up with an art background at all – instead of going to galleries, I grew up going to the pub and to the football with my dad. My parents have worked their trades since they were teenagers, and growing up in Sheffield, there was never the expectation that I would be an artist. This led to me being very insecure when I arrived at university; my foreignness to the art world paired with the references and knowledge of my classmates led to a very strong sense of imposter syndrome.

Although I’ve been interested in art from a very young age, I always drew my environments and the people within them, so in hindsight, I learned to be observant at a very early. Growing up and going to the football with my Dad, I also had to be aware of what was around me on the street; the violence surrounding local fandom necessitates you keeping your wits about you. I would sit with my mum for hours on end drawing things, which was my mum’s way of calming me down as a hyperactive little kid, but also the beginning of me communicating thoughts and memories visually.

You are a Fine Art graduate from Central Saint Martins - how did your degree help shape your creative persona?

I don’t feel like Central Saint Martins was probably the best place for me to study to be honest. I don’t feel as though that institution was best suited for me but I was blinded by the reputation and branding of the college. I was obsessed with going to Central Saint Martins because what initially attracted me to it was the song Common People by Pulp where Jarvis Cocker mentions the girl that studies sculpture at Saint Martins College. I never really used the studio space at university and I usually used my flat as my studio space, which later became good practice during lockdown. The hardest thing about graduating at Saint Martins this year was having no degree show and no use of resources for my final term, which was a massive blow but you pick yourself up and dust yourself down and move on.

Coming from the North of England you base your work on Northern culture - why is this so imperative to you?

Being raised in an ex-mining village in South Yorkshire, there were constant reminders of the area’s past and the defunct industries that once employed generations of men. There are all these little de facto memorials; big black wheels partially submerged in the grass, formerly used to lower the minors into the pits are now scattered across the North. You are constantly confronted by the past.

Now abandoned or turned into public walkways, once-thriving workspaces have been appropriated by post-Thatcher generations as hang out zones. There’s a sense of burden that hangs over these appropriated spaces, one that often translates into rebellion. You’re in these spaces that used to house families’ livelihoods, but what are you doing? You’re doing recreational drugs, skateboarding and spray painting (all them teen clichés).

Growing up in a post-industrial city like Sheffield, one cannot escape a sense of nostalgia – the city pines for its past in the coal mines and the steel trade, industries now lost in post-Thatcher Britain. The result is an unfulfillable legacy, one which rests heavily on the shoulders of the city’s residents. The younger generation of men — my generation — has had to find new ways of expression, but in the ruins of industrial greatness since-past, we have only our cars, our clothes, and our music; that which threatens self-destruction, if it does not promise it outright.

What is your artistic process when creating new pieces?

I usually work more sculptural and see my work taking that form in the casting and banners that I make, but I’m currently working with sound and thinking how I can use sound to direct people around a space and how I can use sound to evoke instant nostalgia in music. I’ve got lots of ideas for new avenues for my work to take and I’m trying to push myself to explore those ideas. I don’t limit myself to just one medium when think about my practice because I feel that’s very limiting.

You have started using sound within your practice - tell us about this concept?

I’m creating an alarm system for a gallery based on an alarm system called ‘The Mosquito’ for the exhibition I will be in at UNIT Gallery next month. ‘The Mosquito’ was an alarm system created by Howard Stapleton made to stop kids loitering around shop fronts. The Mosquito is operated by a button inside the shop to a speaker outside which plays a sound with a frequency of 17.4 kHz that can generally be heard only by young people, and another at 8 kHz that can be heard by most people. The maximum potential output sound pressure level is stated by the manufacturer to be 108 decibels (dB), and the manufacturer's product specification furthermore states that the sound can typically be heard by people below 25 years of age.

Nicknamed “Mosquito” for the buzzing sound it plays. The device is marketed as a safety and security tool for preventing youths from congregating in specific areas. As such, it is promoted to reduce anti-social behaviour, such as loitering, vandalism, drug use, drug distribution, and violence. In the UK, over 3,000 have been sold, mainly for use outside shops and near transport hubs. I got really interested in these alarm systems after making a banner which was an ode to the non-places like shop fronts me and my friends would hang around growing up. In conjunction with this I have been reading ‘chavs’ by Owen Jones which talks about how the working classes of Britain were and are demonised by the press and politicians with words such as ‘chav’ or ‘hoodie’.

‘It’s 2020 For F*ck Sake’ is currently being exhibited at Guts Gallery in which your work is being shown - can you explain the concept behind this exhibition?

So ‘it’s 2020 For F*ck Sake’ is a collaboration between Guts Gallery and @softpunkmag and is a thirteen artist, back-to-back solo exhibition marathon, running from 24 September 2020 to 21 December 2020 in a railway arch under Haggerston Station. Exhibiting Artists - Corbin Shaw, Elsa Rouy, Ruby Dickson, Andrew Hart, Olivia Sterling, Lucia Ferrari, Sophie Vallance, Douglas Cantor, Kemi Onabule, Kate Burling, Salomé Wu, Victoria Cantons, Miranda Forrester.

There’s a new Artist’s Private View on every Thursday for the rest of the year.

Unit 313

Frederick Terrace

Haggerston

London

E8 4EW

What is next for your career as an up and coming artist?

I currently have a show planned with the collective ‘Boys Don’t Cry’ at UNIT Gallery just off Regent Street. The show is called ‘Island’ I will be on for a week next month in November. If you would like to view the show follow me on Instagram @corbinshaww where I will be realising the link for tickets via eventbrite.