Trickledown Artonomics: An Interview with John Yates by Vincent Chung for Media Reader vincent@oscillat.com

Granted, you might know the name, but you wouldn't know where you heard it from. Cruise the liner notes of some of your favorite punk rock records, you might find one of his many Stealworks signatures gracing his own blood, sweat, and tears. Check out a local protest (particularly the "lefty" kinds), you might see that ubiquitous bold, black t-shirt that says, "Democracy, We Deliver" with bombs reigning over the skies. That's a Stealworks original. In a time before any kid with a Macintosh was a graphic designer, John Yates was one of the few who spent grueling hours typesetting lyrics, scanning vintage images, and picking those perfect Pantones. Bands lined up to have their work "manufactured" by the guy who did the Dead Kennedy's swan song release, Give Me Convenience, Or Give Me Death. Or the same hands who made Lifetime look like The Housemartins and then later, a Blue Note recording. Or the same individual who did records for clients like Maximumrocknroll, Jawbreaker, No Means No, Crass, and Jade Tree Records. While the graphic designer's role as the translator to the client's beckoning is mostly apolitical, it hasn't stopped Yates from expressing his own views through dissent-fueled graphic havoc. Blunt with its attack, biting with its sarcasm, and bold with its aesthetic, Yates' graphics criticize a plethora of enemies: from corporate America to our corrupt government, from the vulgarity of violence to the excess of capitalist consumption, and from artifacts of Hitler's regime to the current Bush administration. And this was decades before Adbusters revived their First Things First Manifesto 2000 campaign. Under the brand name Stealworks, he's published the eponymous anthology, September Commando, and the newly released Controlled Flight into Terrain, all published under AK Press. His dedication to his work and beliefs are nothing but inspiring. His voice might be barking in your face, but it's sly with wit and compassion. If you smirk with righteousness, you've found an ally. If you're offended, then it's a well-meaning middle finger. Born in 1965 in Leeds, England, he graduated from two programs in graphic design and photography. After swapping art over the mail with Jello Biafra, he lands the job of designing the insert to the Dead Kennedys' Give Me Convenience of Give Me Death, which eventually leads to a job at Alternative Tentacles' San Francisco office. During his ten years at A.T., Yates also ran his own label, Allied Recordings, putting out records by bands such as Fuel, Friction, Buzz*oven, and Neurosis. Now more visible as a freelance graphic designer for such establishments as AK Press and the G7 Welcoming Committee, Yates continues Stealworks while residing in the Bay Area with his significant other.

Would you consider yourself as a fine artist or a graphic designer? Or both? Or neither?

JY: A graphic designer. I attempt to "sell" ideas, so I work in the medium of the ad world. Is it art? At a stretch, but then again burnt toast is considered art in some circles, so why not? I don't like to refer to myself as an artist, because what I do isn't particularly art-like. I design messages, but not like Hallmark, although it's the same approach, essentially.

 So how do you feel when others peg you as an artist?

 I don't fight it! I guess considering oneself an artist (with a small 'a') takes more of an ego than I feel I possess. Essentially, I'm just more comfortable referring to myself as a designer than I am an artist. If someone makes that analogy, it's flattering and I am very appreciative.

 How did you land yourself into doing record design? Was it ever an initial goal of yours?

It was always a goal of mine. I was always artistically inclined, but I had no focus, no direction, no way of expressing what I was feeling. Aside from the music, it was the visual aesthetic that attracted me to punk. It provided the spark and the outlet I was looking for. After college I just pursued it doggedly, and eventually wrangled a "career" out of it.

What visual aesthetic are we talking about that attracted you to punk? Any specific graphic designers come to mind?

As a kid of 11, when Never Mind The Bollocks was in most record store windows, the outrageousness of it made everyone take notice. I had no idea who Jamie Reid was at the time, and only a vague knowledge of who the Sex Pistols were (though that had changed within a year), so I have to say I was attracted to it simply because I wasn't supposed to be. Once I was entrenched in punk and discovered what else was out there, it was like a light going on in the dark. As I developed politically as well as culturally, I was drawn to bands that had something to say, visually or verbally. Growing up in England, that meant I gravitated toward Crass and anarcho punk. I was also a huge Discharge fan, then I discovered Dead Kennedys and others from across the pond. The most influential artists for me were Gee (Crass) and Winston (DKs). They taught me the power of image and word, and biting humor.MR: Explain your relationship with Jello Biafra and Alternative Tentacles.JY: Biafra is a friend and a former employer. I worked at Alternative Tentacles for close to 10 years, and it was the reason I relocated to the US from the UK. We collaborated on many projects together, me being responsible for realizing Biafra's creative shenanigans. I no longer work at A.T., but I still maintain a close personal and working relationship with Biafra and the label. He was one of the biggest influences on my artistic life and he's a genuinely gifted individual.

Do you do much freelance work? How do you go about filtering your clients--or do you not need to?

 I don't do nearly as much freelance work as I used to, and not all of that is through choice. These days I tend to work with a very select group of folks on a regular basis, and then the occasional outsider here and there. I'd like to do more, but it seems there are so many more individuals that now do what was previously work done by very few. I did make a conscious decision a few years back to severely curtail the freelance workload, and I think I'm actually a lot happier these days for that choice.

How come you're happier? You actually have time for yourself now?

I'm happier because I have what passes for a life these days. I love to work. I've never been unemployed at any point in my adult life. I loved what I was doing, and it got to the point that I wouldn't refuse anything (within reason, I have standards), so I was working a day job (at A.T.) then getting home and spending the rest of the night working, too. I'd work until the wee hours and fall asleep, get up, do it all over again. It got the point where I really wasn't enjoying what I was doing. It was killing me, and was no barrel of laughs for those close to me. Finally, my longtime companion put it all in perspective for me. I stepped back, took a look at where I was at, and decided it was time for a change.

You make an interesting point about how punk graphic design seems to have been diluted in recent years. Hell, [Dave Laney, MR's editor] and I are pretty much practicing graphic designers! I remember when I was first getting into punk, your name was everywhere, but then a lot of new names entered the realm. How did you feel about this "explosion" of sorts?

I don't feel anything about it, really. It was inevitable that others would come along and do what myself and a few others used to be known for. That's the way life is. It's all about renewal. It's very humbling and gives your work some meaning when folks you've apparently influenced come of age, so-to-speak. A very good friend of mine, Jon Resh, who was in the old Gainesville band Spoke (and he wrote a great book about the experience, too), wrote a little quote for my new book that blew me away. He always says how much of an influence I was on him, but then I see the work he does these days and I couldn't touch it with a 10-foot pole. He's so much more talented than I ever was, so things going full circle like that are pretty fucking cool.

Resh's name has made many appearances in the new anthology. He's a well known Chicago name, but what's your connection with him? Is he a new collaborator?

He should be a well known Chicago name, the guy's a brilliant designer. I've known Jon since Allied co-released his band Spoke's two anthologies, back in the mid-nineties. We've kept in sporadic touch ever since, maybe seeing each other a handful of times in years between, but have become great friends regardless. He's a very talented designer, far more so than I. I asked him if he'd consider writing a small quotation for the new book, because I regarded him as a gifted individual who's work I admired and respected. He feels I was an influence on his work in some way, so it sort of came full circle. I was just humbled to have him write something so kind about my work. Anyway, seizing the moment, I caught him while stinking drunk and signed him up to write an introduction, either to the revamped 'Stealworks,' or the next anthology. A brilliant move on my part.

Were there any other peers you respected a lot?

Peers I respected? Well, besides those mentioned (Gee and Winston), I wasn't aware of too many at the time, though obvious standouts would be Jason Farrell, Winni Wintermeyer, and a few others I can't presently recall.

This is your third anthology. Compositionally, why more of the same?

Because I feel my work is at a place that I am most comfortable with now. It's a format that has developed over the course of the three book anthologies, and is still doing so, but in a much more subtle manner. I'm not bored with the way the work has developed, yet. That may change with the fourth collection, due out sometime next year, but it's hard to say. And then I actually enjoy the repetition of the style. It may be monotonous in design, but I don't feel it is in substance. The latest book is by far the most cohesive and defined work I feel I've done.

The third anthology definitely carries more wit, well, a very cynical and sardonic wit. So, it's not the format that's developed but the kind of message you expressed? If I'm way off here, how has it progressed?

I like to think my work gets better each time, or at least that's the objective at the project offset. As I've grown, I feel my work has, too. Like most things in life, it's a learning curve, and if it wasn't, what would be the point? Maybe the wit is more pointed, more direct. I've always been cynical, but I've always attempted to temper that with something positive. This collection really achieved what I wanted it to, at least for me. I was genuinely happy with everything about it, and that's usually not the case. Maybe it's because I'm at a much more content part of my life now, that the work reflects that somehow? I'm comfortable in life, and it felt very comfortable, very natural, assembling the pieces for the book this time around. It all came together and felt right. I'm extremely pleased with the results, and if that shows, then I've done something right.

To back up to composition, it's easy to draw similarities between you and Barbara Kruger. How do you feel you two are different?

Kruger is a popular established artist with an instantly recognizable style, extremely generous funding grants, high profile gallery shows, mainstream media articles, a scathing feminist viewpoint, who can afford a black plus spot color design aesthetic. I'm a somewhat established designer within a highly ghettoized subculture with a vaguely original style, zero funding grants, zero gallery shows, indie press articles, a shotgun viewpoint, who can barely afford the black and white he always works in. Aside from that, she's brilliant and I muddle through.

Do you really feel that small?

I wasn't aware I was saying I'm small, more that I understand all too well the vast differences between Kruger and myself. Another litmus test would be to ask her if she's heard of me. I can guarantee the answer, and that's fine. It's not a pissing contest. I admire her work immensely. I'd kill to have a fraction of her talent, and her funding, for that matter. It's pointless to deny there hasn't been any Kruger influence on my work, but I like to think that these days maybe I've found what works best for me. I don't think I'm capable of much of the subtlety and finesse that is reflected in her work, and perhaps some of my work is far more blunt and obnoxious than she would ever consider. That's partly from a punk background, partly because the shortest route between two points is a straight line.

Is Allied completely dead?

As a dodo. However, the label's debt is still very much active and I'm paying it off incrementally.

Ouch, that's humbling! So maybe you do feel that small...

Not at all. I'm very tall to my son, and that's about as much as I want out of life these days. The Allied debt is a reality, that's why I said what I said. Do you have issues with size?

Don't take this wrongly, but "Stealworks" sometimes takes from the concept of taking familiar graphic images and then co-opting them for your own subversive means. Is this the goal? If so, what's the intention behind it?

It's hard to take the obvious in the wrong way, but I know what you mean. Yes, the basic premise for my work is the "liberation" of "found" images, then turning those images around, in meaning or purpose. The intent, if any, is to beg a different perspective. To ask a different question or make an alternate statement. It's the idea that you can take just about any image on it's own and it's just an image. But by working with supplemental text you can wholly redefine the meaning to suit your needs. It's co-opting standard advertising practices to sell back what we've already been sold.

 It's the same kind of argument a DJ would use for his artistic use of samples..

If you mean the comparison between my design approach and a DJ sampling material to create something new and, in effect, his or her own, then yes, that's a great analogy. I sample images, try to put a new spin on them, if you will (to labor the DJ thing to death). I'm not a believer in public domain copyright. Although most of the images I use I attempt to cull from older, hopefully more obscure, sources, one assumes that the photographer was originally paid for the use of an image wherever it appears. It then enters the public realm. I expect that to happen with my own work, and it does. If I made a lot of money off what I do, I'd purchase rights. I don't, so I can't. It's artistic economics. Trickledown artonomics, if you will.

Earlier, you mentioned that you attempt to "sell" ideas, which is the technical role of a graphic designer. Obviously, working from a DIY punk ethic and using such tactics might seem like a paradox. Is it really? Do you feel like you have a strong concept of marketing and other such "corporate" tools? Do you even feel like those tools are even "corporate"?

I wouldn't know if I possess a strong marketing concept. I suppose one might argue that if I did I would be a bit better known than I might be now, and I might be co-opted into selling revolution back to the kids, like some do. There's nothing "corporate" about selling ideas. By the same token there's nothing inherently wrong with being paid for services rendered. There's a whole mess in-between, but the two are not necessarily a part and parcel of the same thing. Che sold a revolution throughout the lower Americas, but I doubt you'd find any capitalist who'd consider him corporate, you know what I mean?

Also, do you ever run into any copyright or legal troubles because of your designs? An angry letter from a C.E.O.?

The only copyright issues I've ever run into were while at A.T., where we had to be somewhat more sensitive to such matters, given the label's legal history. All were settled with standard cease and desist letters, which was fair enough, considering you're talking about entities such as Time Warner, etc. Personally? Nothing, yet.

How active are you in these days of political hostility? What projects are you working on?

Not as active as I should be, I admit. I haven't flypostered in years, which I really enjoyed, but I still produce shirt designs, postcards, things like that. Most recently I was committed to getting Controlled Flight Into Terrain finished and out, which was achieved in April. Aside from the book, I'm currently working on a revised and updated edition of Stealworks, the first book anthology. I've always hated the print job on it and when AK Press asked if they could reprint it, I said no. So, they suggested I recreate it, essentially, for the digital age and they'd print that version. Which is what we're going to do. All of the original pieces featured in Stealworks were created cut and paste fashion, so it's a lot of work to scan in and clean them up, and then redesign the project. It will be nice to be able to acknowledge the book's existence, though.

So it was the print job that did Stealworks in? Is the book technically out of print then? In its redesign, would you maintain the 8.5 x 11 format? I was a little taken aback by the new size, thinking, "Oh no, AK is skimping on the printing!"

Yes. The print job was pretty poor, plus back then they were working from half-toned velox originals, which isn't ideal but was the way I did things back then. It's been long out of print. The redesign would revert to the 5.5 x 8.5 format as with the latest. The new format was my choice, and I have to say I think that's a part of what makes the new one look more cohesive. I like that it's compact, broken down into chapters in a more defined manner, and printed beautifully. Another reason was I wanted to keep the cost down, yes. AK would have funded whatever I wanted format-wise, but I really wanted the pocket book. I love it and am converted.

In the introduction to your new anthology, you express concern--rather paranoia of coming under "friendly fire" as an outspoken citizen. Do you fear for your life?

I believe I was talking metaphorically and playing with word plays, which I am want to do. I was attempting to make a general point about the atmosphere of dissent and debate as being viewed as unpatriotic, especially post-9/11. This country has seen (but not seen) an alarming erosion of civil rights in a very short space of time. Homeland insecurity is at alert level red. But, frighteningly, most seem unconcerned, because it's been sold as a necessary evil in the war on terror. Have I personally experienced threats for comments I've made post-9/11 that question the country's direction? Absolutely. Do I fear for my life? No. But I certainly fear for the quality of life in the Total Information Awareness age. As Heller wrote, "Just because I'm paranoid, doesn't mean they're not after me."