Artist Andrew Logan’s list of likes
Roula Khalaf, Editor of the FT, selects her favourite stories in this weekly newsletter.
My personal style signifier is colourful silk Nehru suits, which I’ve worn since I first visited India in 1982. My very first was made for me in the city of Vrindavan, near where Krishna came from. I always wear one of my big jewel brooches made from mirror and resin, and Bukharian kippah-style hats. To me, wearing a Nehru suit is like slipping on an elegant tracksuit. I have every colour save for black; I wear purple for funerals.
The last thing I bought and loved was a Barbie doll from a charity shop in Borth, Wales, which I have recreated into a Barbie snake at the foot of a Virgin Mary sculpture by artist Duggie Fields. I love to find things in the gutter and transform them into fabulous works of art. I had a little companion doll in the ’70s called Josey who travelled around the world with me. She was photographed everywhere we went, including in front of the Taj Mahal and with Andy Warhol. She was once stabbed by a waiter in a restaurant in Venice and later assassinated. When I bought this Barbie, she tapped into my longstanding love of dolls.
The place that means a lot to me is Berriew in Powys, Wales, where I have lived with my partner, Michael Davis, since 2015. I love the trees and the landscape here. It is where we established the Andrew Logan Museum of Sculpture in 1991. In the ’80s, I had a dream of opening a museum. I realised that exhibitions finish but museums don’t. It is in what used to be the local squash courts and we live very nearby. andrewloganmuseum.org
The best souvenir I’ve brought home is the Atlas Mountains – literally. I went with the designer Zandra Rhodes in 1990 and we discovered fantastical rocks sold from rickety tables perched on the edge of the winding roads. We called them “rock shops”. At the airport, heading home, we were weighed down with rocks and had to ask people in the queue to carry them so we wouldn’t be too overweight.
The work of art that changed everything for me was Dalí’s Rainy Taxi, which I saw at the Dada and Surrealism exhibition at MoMA in 1968. It was a way of looking at our existence in such a different way. I have an abiding love of surrealism.
The last music I bought was ForeverAndEverNoMore by Brian Eno. I have collaborated with him over many years. We really got to know each other well from 1981, when he moved back to the UK from the US. We worked together on an installation called Monuments and Music in Rome’s Botanical Garden. He is a brilliant musician and visionary.
My style icons are my two dearest friends, Zandra Rhodes and the late artist Duggie Fields. Duggie always looked immaculate and stylish, even when he was painting. He loved colour, stripes, fun glasses and badges on everything. Zandra literally lives in her designs. From carpets and cushions to bedsheets and the body, you name it, she has covered it. We must have a special ESP connection as we always seem to coordinate wherever we go.
The best gift I’ve given recently was to my brother, the kinetic sculptor Peter Logan, for his 80th birthday. It was a Kate Malone vase encrusted with mirrored flowers and portraits of his sculptures. I much prefer to give presents than to receive. Even as a child I preferred to give.
The one artist whose work I would collect if I could is Piero della Francesca. For me he is timeless. The way he portrayed human beings is wonderful.
I have a collection of knitting patterns. I don’t actually knit but I used to crochet. I crocheted my graduation coat.
In my fridge you’ll always find organic fruits and vegetables, kefir, 85 per cent dark chocolate and fruit juice.
For my 78th-birthday party, I listened to my 78rpm records. I listen to everything from Bill Haley to Victor Silvester, the most successful band leader in British musical history. There is a remarkable young man of about 16 who lives in my village with whom I have earnest discussions about 78rpm records. He loves the oldies too and DJed my birthday party.
The thing I couldn’t do without is breath.
The last item of clothing I added to my wardrobe was a gorgeous hoodie made from Peruvian blankets. It has multicoloured stripes and was created by my sister-in-law Diane Logan for my birthday. I love colour and when I sit on the Tube in London and everyone is in black, I feel like Joseph in his Technicolor Dreamcoat. Colour brings joy and that is what my work is all about. If I see colour, I am immediately drawn to it.
The grooming staple I’m never without is tuberose from Vrindavan, India – it smells gorgeous.
An object I would never part with is a pink smiley-face brooch I made that I wear every day. My work is made to last – it is theatrical but very strong.
My favourite room in my house is the mirror room. It is a collage made out of mirrors, and amid some trees are images of Michael and myself facing each other. To make it, we lay on the ground and drew each other’s outlines. And now there we stand, recreated in glass.
My favourite building is the Taj Mahal. It’s appeared many times in my work. All the photographs you see of it don’t do it justice. It is ethereal to me and exudes a powerful spiritual atmosphere. Once I was sitting there at night, beneath a full moon, when two men came by and one said to his friend, “That is the most beautiful building.” He was blind, but he felt it. That place is like a poem.
In another life, I would have been a professional traveller. We are blessed living on this planet and I have travelled extensively. I go to India all the time, but I have yet to explore Africa. That could be my next adventure.
When I need to feel inspired, I wake up, practise yoga, have breakfast and go to work. It is the very process of creating that inspires future creation. If I can, I make something every day. Sculpting is tough work, though, so as I grow older I have to learn to pace myself.
The best book I’ve read in the past year is We Belong to Gaia by James Lovelock, which I would recommend to everyone. We think we own the world, but we don’t, we are all part of the same thing. This book shows us the obvious answer to existence. James draws on decades of wisdom to lay out the history of our remarkable planet. He shows us it is not ours to be exploited – and warns us that it is fighting back.
My wellbeing guru is acupuncturist Jane Wilson, who is based near Old Street. I have been seeing her for years. It’s like a maintenance programme rather than waiting for something to go wrong. strongroom.com/community
The best bit of advice I ever received was when I read the Dalai Lama’s words “Never give up”. I think this needs no explanation.
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