At one of those openings, the ones that seem to consist of my entire social life these days – beer on an empty stomach, still suited up from work and the taste of too many cigarettes in my mouth, a friend and I got to talking about artists who we felt were “on the rise”. It was an interesting run of names, some old, some new, some that I hadn’t heard of – and then, she mentioned E.L.K. “He seems to just be everywhere at the moment,” she explained. I remember standing there for a moment, agreeing, and that pretty much prompted a whole new line of conversation – one that I’m still thinking about as I write this.

From his first place in last years Australian Stencil Art Prize, to his recent sell out solo show in Sydney, which was also covered in a saturation of media (and courted a small amount of controversy, in the form of protests from a Christian fundamental group), to his cover appearance on the latest issue of Australian Art Monthly, its no wonder that E.L.K.s name has been coming up with random regularity – he does, after all, seem to be everywhere.

That beer fuelled conversation felt all the more poignant at the time, because several weeks earlier, I’d been up to Canberra, obsequiously for work. I’d seen the media releases for his Sydney show, “This Is Why We Can’t Have Nice Things”, and thought it would give me the perfect opportunity (excuse) to see if I could catch up with the man himself. In turn, he graciously invited me around to his studio in Canberra, so I could check out his preparation for his Sydney and Melbourne onslaught – we set up a time, and it was on.

When I’d arrived, with hardly an idea as to where in the hell I was, he was already outside, his dog Daisy, a rescued terrier,  in tow. “Lets head down to the park, “ he said, after the greetings. “I’ll show you a little bit more of what I do around here.” We jumped in the van, the back full of bits and pieces, empty paint tins and cans and the odd bit of carved out acetate, and drove a short distance to the dog park. We sat, talking, longnecks in hand – watching the cavalcade of people and dogs, all to the backdrop of a beautiful, river-bound Canberran bush parkland.

The scene, was pure E.L.K. – laid back, chilled, self assured and comfortable – and, most importantly, completely lacking in hubris.

After throwing around Daisy’s ball for a bit, attracting the attention of several other enthusiastic canines, we reclined on a bench, enjoying the dwindling afternoon. A few minutes later, I realised that I’d actually come to talk to him about his art, not just to enjoy an afternoon in the park swigging beer.

“I’ve been doing this for six or seven years, “ he’d replied, when I finally switched on the recorder and asked him how long, and how he got into working with stencil art.

“I think I needed something outside of work,” he explained. “I was going fucking crazy. I had nothing. I’d go to work, get fucked up on the weekend, and felt like I was just wasting my life. I’ve always had a creative streak, and didn’t really utilise it – I think its genetic, though. My grandma was an artist, and I always drew a lot in High School. So I was straight into it, really. I had a can of spray paint at home, and thought I should do something with it., so I cut a stencil –  and that’s pretty much how it all started.”

E.L.K.s drive to break out of his routine lead him to the passion that would end up fuelling his entire life. A passion, which, possibly, is one of the most intricate, yet simplistically complex forms of ‘street art’. From first appearances, a stencil is merely a matter of cutting out portions of an image in order to apply paint across, but in terms of technical approach, so as to advance a stencil to near photographic quality, the effort required is phenomenal (as a bucket full of used razorblades back in his studio testified). This, however, was the path he chose from the start, that complex, multi layered play between colour, tones and highlights, that grants a stencil artist their creative purpose.

“I might do fifteen layers and fifteen colours on one piece, then twenty,” he purported, describing the way he approaches each piece. “It all depends on the intricacies of the stencil at hand – I think the most I’ve done is about forty layers. There’s a stencil of a bridge that I did a while back, and someone was looking at it, and looking for a picture of a stencil on the image of the bridge – and I was like “Ah, no, the bridge is the stencil.”

Detail. Near photo quality realism . Intricacy and precision – these are the hallmarks of an accomplished stencil artist, and a point to which many who take up the art strive towards – which isn’t to say that all stencil artists have the desire to head in that direction, but those that do follow that path often push themselves, relentlessly, in the quest for the perfect combination of layers. The work produced in this quest often isn’t always the kind of art that lends itself well to easy application on the street, the number of layers and combination of precision shades doesn’t really endear itself to a quick few minutes in a dark alleyway, furtively glancing over the shoulder to avoid tricky encounters with authority – and stencil artists such as E.L.K., and his contemporaries, have embraced the nature of studio work.

“I think its kind of good,” he said, in response, citing the differences between working out in public and within the studio. “There’s only so much you can do on the street, and I think that there’s only so far you can take your art by only concentrating on putting it out there.

“Maybe that’s why my work has advanced, in some ways, a lot more,” he mused. ”I’ve been kind of forced to just do it in my studio, rather than limiting it by doing it all out on the street. It’s really freed me up to push the boundaries a bit more.”

There’s also little doubt that it is this boundary pushing that has drawn the attention of a more “mainstream” fan base to E.L.K.s work. Whilst preparing for his solo show in Sydney, he was given a prime opportunity to promote his work to a wider audience. At the time, he was approached by JJJ  for an interview, both on air and as a video, which, in turns, created new hype and promotion for his work.  “I thought, maybe, I’d be in the local press, maybe some community radio interviews or something like that. To get the ABC interested? That was great.” Later ,during a trip to Sydney, flicking the through the Daily Telegraph at a Bondi coffee shop,  he noticed a full a feature article on himself – “It fucking blew me away. I was like, wow! That, was really, really cool.”

In a world that holds a long association and deep links to the underground street art movement, its easy to see why some stencil artists have a fear of becoming over-hyped, or of becoming the dreaded “sell out”. It’s often refreshing to see artists such as E.L.K take a realistic approach to making a coin out of their craft. “Well, where do you draw the line?” he asked in return.

“You have to make money – and, especially with street art, or graffiti, – anyone who makes a cent off it is a fucking sell out!” he quipped, sarcastically. “Seriously though, if you can make a living, successfully, doing what you love doing and doing what you’re good at … ”

“…it’s the dream!” I’d interjected, jumping in on his enthusiasm.

“It’s the dream! Yeah!” he agreed, with buoyant affirmation. “That’s exactly right! Its like you with your magazine – imagine doing that full time? That’s what I want – I mean, fuck yeah!”

I have to say it, when the man has a point, he has a point.

“Take the Australian Stencil Art Prize, held in Sydney every year. I won it last year, and it was a good feeling!” and, as he spoke, you could sense a feeling of accomplishment and vindication in his words. “It was good to get some recognition on a national level, and have an awards night. They’re trying to recognise stencil art as a legitimate art form. Personally, I think its pretty much there, now, on a legitimate level.”

“I mean, its in the National Gallery,” he continued, asserting and clarifying his view on the legitimacy of the style, and his disdain for the ‘sell out’ notion. “It’s not a question of ‘is it art’ any more, its in the National Gallery! Its fucking art! So, you know? That Stencil Art Prize, I won it – and I’ll fucking win it next year too!” he proclaimed, in that half piss taking way that an Australian artist,  of himself and at a level of comfort with his chosen form of expression, is able to pull off without the overwhelming wash of arrogance.

When I’d asked where he wanted to take his work to, having already accomplished, what, for many artists, are some seriously cool milestones, he seemed less than certain. Curiously, this had very little do do with what work he plans to produce in the future, but, rather, more so with the nature of life as an independent artist.

“I have a show coming up at Brunswick Street Gallery in Melbourne, a solo show – it’ll be a combination of new and old work. I’m just waiting to hear about a couple of grants at the moment, so I really cant plan too much in my life until that., I’m afraid” and for a moment, he looked chagrined. “I try to avoid the grant thing,” he revealed, forlornly. ”It’s just such a frustrating head fuck, and, honestly, I’m really not the best at talking shit up.”

Which he’s not. For all the jokes, positivity and occasional swaggering, you can sense that E.L.K. is humble, yet is also an artist who finds himself at odds with ‘the system’ to which professional Australian artists are often pitted against. The endless rounds of grant applications, the constant need to hype and market themselves, and the tiring trueism that,although there is support out there (somewhere, if you can find it and sort through all of it for its relevance), from the government and other funding organisations, that the processes involved in gaining, mostly monetary, support are so bureaucratic and ridiculously time consuming and complex, that the entire activity is often disheartening to an artist, especially when their only wish is to be inside their studio, creating.

As its got darker, the number of people in the park dropped. With the beer almost gone, I’d started thinking a little more about the guy sharing his time with me, taking time away from his solitary cutting. The fact of the matter, is, really, that E.L.K. has been working on his craft for long enough to know the ins and out, to know the traps and pitfalls of ‘the art game’. This, in the brief time that day that we talked, I also gained a measure awareness from him, that no matter how much his work gets out there, or the attention that it gains, there will always be that a propelling urge within him to continuously attempt to out do all of his previous work.

For all the relative ‘newness’ of the stencil art form, and the association of the chosen medium away from more commercial fields, E.L.K. is, simply, an archetypical artist. He works long hours, he struggles with the necessity of financing, and he doesn’t hugely give a shit about how his work is received. He just does it, regardless of the feedback, or the competitive association with ‘the scene’ that stencils artists often find themselves thrust into.

“You get a lot of praise for your work,” he nodded, finishing off the last drops of beer in his hand. “It’s just that, well, you don’t often get a lot of support,” he revealed. “Sometimes it feels like everyone wants to see you doing well, but no one wants to see you doing better than they are. Maybe I’m a bit paranoid, and, I guess, I’m competitive myself – most definitely.”

“You just have to be competitive these days, though. Art is a very competitive industry. Also, you have to remember, that artists don’t retire –  its not a job. You just fucking love doing it, and there’s no point in ever stopping.”

In that final statement, the sun long gone and the afternoon blurred into the gradients of evening, in his laid-back, simple style, ELK had articulated what it meant to be an artist slowly breaking through to another stratum of this often art eat art world – and, now that I’ve thought about it some more, he’d said it perfectly.

Check out E.L.K.s website here, his Facebook fan page, and details on his upcoming show, Look What You Made Me Do – also, check that JJJ interview again if you missed it – a really great piece.