Martin Creed
Martin Creed (born 21 October 1968) is a British visual artist, composer, and performer whose conceptual works utilize minimalistic forms, repetitive actions, and commonplace objects to interrogate perception, space, and human experience.[1][2]
Born in Wakefield, England, and raised in Glasgow, Scotland, after studying at the Slade School of Fine Art from 1986 to 1990, Creed rose to international prominence upon receiving the Turner Prize in 2001 for Work No. 227: The lights going on and off, an installation consisting of an empty gallery room where lights automatically switched every five seconds, embodying his philosophy of deriving profundity from simplicity.[3][2]
His practice spans sculptures such as precisely stacked household items (Work No. 88) and balloon-filled spaces (Work No. 370), alongside public commissions like the neon text Everything is going to be alright and musical compositions performed under his own name or the band Creed.[4][5]
Creed's output, systematically cataloged as "Work No." followed by sequential numbers, often elicits debate over the boundaries of art due to its apparent banality, yet underscores a commitment to accessibility and the intrinsic value of mundane phenomena.[6]
Biography
Early Life and Family Background
Martin Creed was born on October 24, 1968, in Wakefield, West Riding of Yorkshire, England.[7][2] At the age of three, his family relocated to Glasgow, Scotland, where he spent his formative years.[8][9] Creed's parents adhered to the Quaker faith, which emphasized principles such as respectful listening, silence in meetings, and simplicity, potentially influencing his later artistic approach to minimalism and everyday materials.[10][9] His father worked as an ironmonger and silversmith, securing a teaching position at the Glasgow School of Art focused on glassmaking, jewellery, and related crafts, which prompted the family's move.[8][7] Little is documented about his mother or siblings in public records, though the Quaker household provided a structured environment centered on ethical and communal values rather than material excess.[10] Creed's early exposure to his father's professional milieu in Glasgow's art education scene may have subtly shaped his interest in craft and conceptual boundaries, though he has not explicitly attributed direct causation in interviews.[8] The family's modest, principle-driven background contrasted with the industrial backdrop of Wakefield and the cultural vibrancy of Glasgow, fostering an upbringing attuned to observation over overt expression.[9]Education and Formative Influences
Creed was born on October 21, 1968, in Wakefield, England, and moved to Glasgow, Scotland, at the age of three, where he grew up in areas such as Milton of Campsie and Lenzie.[2][11] His father, John Creed, worked as an artist blacksmith and silversmith who lectured on glassmaking and jewellery at the Glasgow School of Art, while his mother was a German physiotherapist; both parents were Quakers who emphasized pacifism and simplicity, influences that later informed Creed's minimalist aesthetic and interest in everyday materials.[8][12] The family's artistic and musical leanings—his grandmother was a concert pianist—provided an early exposure to creative expression, though Creed has described childhood experiments, such as testing physical limits with animals, as indicative of his curiosity-driven approach.[7][12] From 1986 to 1990, Creed studied painting at the Slade School of Fine Art in London, graduating in 1990.[6][12] He found the formal discipline of painting frustrating, leading to a disillusionment that prompted experimentation beyond traditional media.[7] During this period, he created early works like "In and Out Piece," involving simple actions in space, which marked a shift toward conceptualism by emphasizing viewer interpretation over material permanence.[7] Key formative influences at Slade included tutor Bruce McLean, a performance artist who encouraged Creed to explore interdisciplinary boundaries, as well as broader inspirations from literature and art such as Samuel Beckett's sparse prose, Ernest Hemingway's direct style, and Pablo Picasso's "shockingly beautiful or strange" forms, which prompted Creed to question artistic rules and authenticity.[7][12] Quaker practices of silent meetings further shaped his appreciation for absence and rhythm, elements recurring in his numbered works that blur art's definitions.[7] These experiences redirected his focus from painting—resumed only later in his career—to installations using ordinary objects, establishing the foundations of his practice.[7]Personal Struggles and Life Events
Creed was raised in a Quaker family, with his father working as a silversmith, blacksmith, and lecturer, and his mother as a German-born physiotherapist; the couple met at a post-war peace camp in Germany before relocating to the UK.[13] This background emphasized pacifism and simplicity, influencing his early life after the family moved from Wakefield to near Glasgow when he was three years old.[14] An early childhood memory involves throwing a family cat out a dormer window at age three, though the animal survived unharmed.[15] In adulthood, Creed has described persistent emotional challenges, including a sense of dread when contemplating life and ongoing disappointment in both his personal endeavors and professional output.[15] He has identified as a perfectionist, often fixating on minor flaws, such as the alignment of text in printed materials, and has expressed anxieties over bodily functions like vomiting and defecation, as well as disgust toward eating—particularly meat and fish—which he associates with fear.[16] Physically, he contends with a chronic bad back, which he has cited as a personal regret he would change if possible.[13] Creed has also voiced dissatisfaction with aspects of his appearance, such as a bent nose, and self-described unreasonableness as an unappealing habit.[15] Key relational events include purchasing a home on the remote Italian island of Alicudi in 2002 alongside then-partner, the artist Paola Pivi.[14] He later began a relationship with psychoanalyst Anouchka Grose, during which he produced naive-style portraits reflecting personal introspection.[14] Creed has acknowledged that relational discord, often tied to his perceived lack of self-honesty, has disrupted his sleep.[15] He divides his time between a cramped Brick Lane flat in London—filled with files, boxes, and assistants—and Alicudi, where isolation may amplify his reported tendencies toward overthinking.[16] A notable close call occurred during a helicopter ride over Stromboli volcano in Italy with a novice pilot, which Creed recounted as his nearest brush with death.[15] Philosophically, he has advised against self-trust as a core life lesson, stemming from experiences of internal conflict, and maintains an outlook encapsulated in his motto: "my life is not over yet."[13][15]Artistic Philosophy and Approach
Core Principles of Numbered Works
Martin Creed employs a sequential numbering system for his oeuvre, assigning each creation a unique "Work No." designation in the order of production, beginning with Work No. 3 in the late 1980s.[17] This practice eschews traditional titles to prevent imposing interpretive associations or hierarchies upon the pieces, thereby emphasizing formal equality among disparate media such as sculptures, videos, and musical compositions.[18] Creed has stated that the numbering aims to "treat everything the same," assigning equivalent status regardless of scale, material, or conceptual weight, which fosters a cataloguing method where a balloon-filling installation holds parity with a minimalist painting.[17][19] The system reflects Creed's intent to democratize his output, countering the subjective valuation often derived from descriptive titles or thematic categorization. By labeling works numerically, he avoids linguistic framing that might privilege certain ideas, allowing viewers to engage directly with the physical or experiential elements without preconceived narratives.[20] This approach aligns with his broader skepticism toward art's definitional boundaries, as he has described the numbering as an attempt to equate diverse endeavors under a neutral, arithmetic framework, though he acknowledges inherent inequalities persist.[18] Once assigned, numbers remain fixed and non-reusable, creating a chronological yet impersonal archive that spans over 2,000 entries as of recent counts.[17] Critics interpret this methodology as a minimalist strategy to underscore the arbitrary nature of artistic significance, where the numeral itself becomes the primary identifier, stripping away anthropocentric embellishments.[9] Creed's rationale, drawn from personal reflection rather than doctrinal theory, prioritizes empirical equivalence over hierarchical distinction, enabling his practice to encompass everyday actions—like crumpling paper or inflating lungs—as valid alongside conventional gallery objects.[19] This principle extends to public installations and performances, maintaining conceptual continuity across contexts without elevating one form over another.[7]Views on Art, Everyday Objects, and Boundaries
Martin Creed posits that art lacks a rigid definition, encompassing any object or action framed as such within an artistic context, thereby dissolving strict demarcations between artistic production and quotidian experience. In a 2014 interview, he stated, "Anything is art that is used as art," emphasizing subjective designation over intrinsic qualities.[8] This perspective aligns with his rejection of preconceived notions of conceptual art, asserting that all creative endeavors inherently involve ideas, rendering categorical labels superfluous.[21] Creed's incorporation of everyday objects underscores his philosophy of accessibility and immediacy, transforming mundane items—such as chairs, tables, or balloons—into works that highlight their inherent ambiguity without aesthetic embellishment. For instance, in pieces like stacked furniture assemblies, he avoids deliberate beauty, instead amplifying ordinary forms to evoke viewer interpretation through familiarity and slight disruption.[22] [7] His approach reflects an anti-materialistic ethos, where recontextualizing commonplace materials questions value and perception, as seen in installations employing household goods to subvert expectations of rarity in fine art.[23] By intermingling art with life's rhythms—through numbered works spanning visual, sonic, and performative media—Creed erodes boundaries, treating galleries as amplifiers of the everyday rather than sanctuaries for the exceptional. He has described art as "immediate, creative and live," not confined to traditional media, which extends to his musical output and public interventions that seamlessly blend into surrounding environments.[24] This fluidity challenges viewers to confront the arbitrariness of artistic categorization, prompting reflection on how context elevates the prosaic.[25] Creed's insistence on this porous divide, evident since his early 1990s outputs, underscores a commitment to experiential authenticity over institutional validation.[5]Relationship to Conceptualism and Minimalism
Martin Creed's practice demonstrates clear connections to Conceptualism through its emphasis on ideas as the primary artistic substance, often utilizing mundane actions or objects to interrogate the nature of art itself. Although Creed has distanced himself from the explicit label of conceptual artist, stating that his works stem from emotional impulses rather than academic conceptual exploration, his oeuvre prioritizes conceptual frameworks over traditional craftsmanship or aesthetic finish.[7] For example, Work No. 227: The lights going on and off (2000), which consists of a bare room with lights alternating every five seconds via timer, relies on the viewer's perception of time and space to generate meaning, bypassing elaborate materials or skill.[26] This approach draws from 1960s-1970s Conceptualism, influenced by figures like Marcel Duchamp and Sol LeWitt, who asserted that the idea constitutes the artwork, as seen in Creed's use of instructions or simple interventions to redefine everyday phenomena as art.[26] Creed's relationship to Minimalism manifests in his deployment of repetitive, pared-down forms and single-material compositions that evoke viewer engagement with fundamental perceptual experiences, akin to the movement's reductionist ethos. Works such as stacked I-beams or cinder block pyramids employ industrial, utilitarian elements arranged in geometric progressions, mirroring Minimalism's interest in objecthood and spatial relationships without narrative excess.[27] Yet, Creed diverges from the austere, polished objectivity of pioneers like Donald Judd by embracing imperfection—leaving materials in their practical, weathered states—and infusing subtle humor or relational dynamics, such as the rhythmic flicker of 49 light bulbs in a grid that unifies through glow despite irregularities.[28][27] His systematic numbering of every output, from crumpled paper (Work No. 204, 1999) to marathon runs (Work No. 127, 2000), further aligns with minimalist seriality while conceptually democratizing artistic production, treating all endeavors as equivalent expressions without hierarchical judgment.[7] This hybrid positioning—conceptually driven yet materially restrained—positions Creed as a post-Minimalist figure who leverages both traditions to probe art's boundaries with accessibility and playfulness, often using found or ordinary elements to elicit direct, unmediated responses from audiences.[6] Critics note that such works achieve a balance where thought predominates over object, fostering an experiential minimalism that invites personal interpretation over imposed formalism.[27]Major Works and Installations
Iconic Early Pieces
Martin Creed's early works from the 1990s emphasized minimal interventions with everyday materials, often challenging conventional notions of artistic value through simplicity and repetition. One such piece, Work No. 88, completed in 1995, consists of a single sheet of A4 paper crumpled into a tight ball measuring approximately 5.1 cm in diameter.[29] This work was produced as an unlimited multiple and distributed unsolicited via mail to curators, collectors, and other figures in the art world, functioning as a form of mail art.[30] In 1999, Creed created Work No. 204, titled Half the air in a given space, an installation that fills the lower half of an exhibition room's volume with inflated red balloons, each approximately 40.6 cm in diameter.[31] First exhibited in Turin, Italy, the piece requires precise calculation to achieve the exact volumetric displacement, transforming the gallery into an interactive, buoyant environment.[32] That same year, Work No. 203, a neon sign reading EVERYTHING IS GOING TO BE ALRIGHT in uppercase letters, was produced using blue neon tubing measuring about 62.5 cm in height.[33] Installed on building facades or in public spaces, this text-based sculpture has been replicated in various editions, with early versions appearing in gallery settings to convey direct, affirmative messaging.[34] These pieces, made with inexpensive or found elements, established Creed's practice of assigning sequential numbers to conceptually driven objects and actions, prioritizing idea over materiality.[35]
Turner Prize-Winning Work and Immediate Aftermath
Martin Creed's Work No. 227: The lights going on and off (2000) consists of an empty gallery room where a single light switches on and off at five-second intervals, creating a repetitive cycle of illumination and darkness that Creed described as evoking both happiness and anxiety through its simplicity.[36][37] The installation was presented as Creed's sole submission to the Turner Prize exhibition at Tate Britain in October 2001, departing from the typical multi-work displays by other shortlisted artists.[38] On December 9, 2001, Creed was awarded the £20,000 prize by a jury chaired by photographer Ron Mueck, who praised the work for its "conceptual clarity, technical simplicity, and its engagement with fundamental questions about perception and expectation."[39] The prize was presented by Madonna during the ceremony at Tate Britain.[38] In response to the win, Creed immediately created Work No. 232: the runner, involving a performer sprinting up the Tate's stairs, underscoring his philosophy that art arises spontaneously from ordinary actions amid an already cluttered world.[39] The announcement triggered immediate backlash, with tabloids like The Sun and critics such as Brian Sewell labeling the piece "rubbish" and emblematic of the art world's decline into triviality, reigniting debates over whether minimal interventions qualify as art.[40][41] Supporters, including jury members, defended it as a poignant conceptual probe into light's dual role in visibility and absence, though the controversy amplified Creed's visibility, leading to rapid increases in gallery inquiries and sales in the following months.[39][42]Later Installations and Public Commissions
In the years following his 2001 Turner Prize win, Martin Creed received numerous commissions for large-scale public installations that integrated his minimalist conceptual approach with urban environments, often using neon signage or architectural modifications to provoke subtle interactions with everyday passersby. These works expanded on his earlier explorations of repetition, text, and light, adapting them to permanent or semi-permanent public contexts across Europe, North America, and beyond.[6][7] A pivotal early public commission in this period was Work No. 1059 (2011), installed on the Scotsman Steps in Edinburgh, Scotland. Commissioned by the Fruitmarket Gallery as part of the restoration of the historic 104-step passageway linking the Old and New Towns, the piece resurfaced each step with a unique slab of colored granite sourced from quarries worldwide, creating a visually disorienting ascent or descent that alters perception of space and movement. The granite varieties, including vivid greens, reds, and blacks, were selected for their material contrasts rather than symbolic intent, emphasizing Creed's interest in variation within uniformity.[43][44][45] Creed's neon text series proliferated in public commissions during the 2010s and 2020s, featuring flashing or rotating phrases that blend reassurance, ambiguity, and irony against cityscapes. Notable examples include Work No. 1357: MOTHERS (2012), a 48-foot-wide kinetic white neon sculpture installed in the Museum of Contemporary Art Chicago's plaza, where the word pulses in a repetitive cycle to evoke familial themes amid urban bustle.[46] In 2016, Work No. 2630: UNDERSTANDING appeared as a rotating cylindrical neon sign in Brooklyn Bridge Park, New York, commissioned by the Public Art Fund; measuring approximately 10 feet in diameter, it displays the word in multicolored letters visible from the East River waterfront, prompting reflections on comprehension in a divided social landscape.[5] Later iterations of his "Everything is going to be alright" motif continued in public venues, such as Work No. 3485 (2021) on the facade of Gstaad Palace in Switzerland, a large-scale neon installation that reaffirms the phrase's optimistic ambiguity in a alpine tourist setting.[47] Permanent neon commissions extended to Australasia with Work No. 2950: WHATEVER (2019), a rooftop installation atop the City Works Depot in Auckland, New Zealand, featuring the word in pink flashing letters approximately 20 feet tall, commissioned to integrate art into industrial infrastructure and spark casual public discourse on indifference or acceptance.[48][49] These works, often temporary or site-specific, underscore Creed's strategy of embedding art in accessible public realms without overt disruption, relying on the viewer's incidental encounter to generate meaning.[5][47]Paintings, Videos, and Multimedia Experiments
![Martin Creed, Work No. 1768, 2013, acrylic on panel][float-right]Martin Creed has produced paintings since the mid-2000s, often featuring simple applications of a single color or expressive brushstrokes that emphasize process over representational content. Work No. 1102 (2006) exemplifies this approach, consisting of acrylic paint applied uniformly in one color to canvas, exploring minimal variation within uniformity.[50] Similarly, Work No. 1768 (2013) is an acrylic painting on panel measuring 50.8 x 40.6 cm, part of a series where paint is layered or stroked in straightforward, unembellished manners.[6] More recent efforts include the Step Paintings series, such as Work No. 3764 (2023), executed in watercolor and pencil on paper (31 x 23.2 cm), which introduce subtle gradients or steps in tone achieved through incremental applications. These works align with Creed's broader interest in everyday actions elevated to artistic inquiry, though they receive less attention than his installations. Creed's video works frequently document mundane or bodily actions, presented with deadpan precision to provoke viewer discomfort or reflection. Work No. 503 (2006) is a 35 mm color film with sound lasting 1 minute and 6 seconds, capturing repetitive motions in a clinical style.[51] Work No. 837, created around 2007, comprises multi-part footage displayed on four stacked television monitors forming a cube; it depicts explicit bodily functions such as vomiting and defecation, drawing controversy for its raw confrontation with human physiology.[52] Other examples include Work No. 1701 (2013), a 4-minute-15-second piece, and Work No. 3725 (2020), a video titled Live at Home running 11 minutes and 38 seconds, both extending his examination of performance and domesticity through moving images.[53][54] Multimedia experiments by Creed often blend video, sound, and performance, pushing boundaries of viewer interaction and sensory experience. Work No. 1020 (2011), a ballet performed at the Museum of Contemporary Art Chicago, integrates musicians, dancers, and audience in a chaotic mash-up of movement and composition, redefining traditional performance structures.[55] Recent endeavors include Work In Progress (2025), a 1-hour-25-minute film featuring performers like Sita Pieraccini and cameos from figures such as Lily Cole, screened at venues including the ICA London on June 21, 2025, which experiments with narrative fragmentation and non-professional acting.[56] These pieces reflect Creed's polymathic practice, where media convergence tests perceptions of coherence and intent, though critics have questioned their depth amid apparent simplicity.[6]
Music and Performance Career
Formation of Band and Musical Output
In 1994, Martin Creed formed the rock band Owada with collaborators Adam McEwen and Keiko Owada, the latter providing the name as her surname and serving as bassist; Creed handled guitar and vocals, while McEwen played drums in the trio format.[57][58] The impetus arose from Creed's experimentation with songwriting amid frustration with his contemporaneous sculptural work, viewing music as a natural extension of his conceptual practice rather than a deliberate pivot to performance.[58] Described as a punk-influenced outfit, Owada emphasized raw, minimalist energy in its live sets.[59] Owada's primary output was the 1997 album Nothing, released on David Cunningham's Piano label as a CD containing 23 short tracks that mirrored the band's concise live repertoire; the record blended experimental rock, art rock, and post-punk elements, prioritizing brevity and repetition over elaborate production.[60][61] Following this sole release, the band maintained sporadic activity, with Creed integrating their performances into multimedia works, such as choreographed pieces and public events that fused music with visual and verbal components.[62] By the early 2000s, Creed's musical endeavors evolved under the billing "Martin Creed and his Band," retaining Keiko Owada on bass while incorporating rotating members like drummers Karen Hutt, Christopher Bell, or Serge Vuille, and occasional vocalists or instrumentalists such as saxophonist Laurent Estoppey.[63][64] These ensembles delivered pared-down rock songs emphasizing direct emotional delivery, often performed in unconventional venues like pubs or galleries, and continued to intersect with Creed's installations, as in the 2005 Work No. 1020 ballet incorporating band elements.[63][65] The band's output remained focused on live execution over prolific recording, prioritizing immediacy and integration with Creed's broader oeuvre.[62]Discography and Key Releases
Martin Creed's musical discography encompasses early band work and subsequent solo albums, often characterized by lo-fi indie rock, experimental elements, and integration with his visual art practice through his label, Telephone Records. His initial foray into recorded music came with the band Owada, featuring Creed on guitar and vocals alongside Adam McEwen and Keiko Owada, releasing the album Nothing in 1997 on David Cunningham's Piano label; the 23-track record captured live set material in a raw, conceptual style reflective of Creed's broader artistic ethos.[60][66] Creed's solo releases began with I Can't Move, issued as a CD by Art Metropole in 1999 and later re-released on vinyl in 2019, featuring minimalist tracks like the title song that appeared on the Weeds soundtrack in 2005.[67] Subsequent key albums include Love to You (2012), a limited-edition 45 RPM LP on Telephone Records blending alternative rock with repetitive motifs; Mind Trap (2014), comprising 16 songs such as "Kid Yourself" and "Gift Attack" produced in collaboration with The Vinyl Factory; and Thoughts Lined Up (2016), which included singles "Understanding" and "Princess Taxi Girl."[68][69][70]| Year | Title | Artist/Band | Format | Label |
|---|---|---|---|---|
| 1997 | Nothing | Owada | CD | Piano |
| 1999 | I Can't Move | Martin Creed | CD (2019 vinyl reissue) | Art Metropole |
| 2012 | Love to You | Martin Creed | LP | Telephone Records |
| 2014 | Mind Trap | Martin Creed | CD/LP | Telephone Records |
| 2016 | Thoughts Lined Up | Martin Creed | LP | Telephone Records |