DEREK HESS: Listen To Your Art
By Kory Grow
Visual artist Derek Hess discusses moving into music, moving up in music and moving out of music

With album credits as diverse as hardcore vets Converge and bluesman R.L. Burnside, Derek Hess has provided cover and poster artwork for many independent music leaders. After moving from booking shows to doing full-time poster art, Hess has expanded his operation into a music festival (Strhess Fest), a franchise tour (Strhess Tour) and a clothing line (Strhess). Now, Hess is working on moving out of music posters and into being a full-time fine artist. Both France's art hub the Louvre and the Rock And Roll Hall Of Fame have Hess's art in their permanent collections. But no matter how much he separates himself from music, it will always serve as the impetus behind his work in one form or another.

When you were a teen, you drew pictures of Kiss and Cheap Trick. What do you remember about those early pictures?
When I was in junior high, I would be drawing the Kiss stage set; it was just so over-the-top. I was trying to draw what they look like, and what their stage sets were and their antics. But I was all into the record covers at the time, too. I had already figured out what companies were doing what art for what bands, and there was Hipgnosis. They did all the great Black Sabbath covers. They did Technical Ecstasy and Never Say Die, which is my favorite Black Sabbath cover. That's when I think Black Sabbath started putting a little more thought into it and more money.

Right at the end of the Ozzy era.
Heaven And Hell, of course, I think is an awesome cover.

Van Halen completely ripped that off with the angel smoking for 1984.
Yeah, I draw a lot of angels smoking, too. I mean, that influenced me, when that record came out, Heaven And Hell. I was drawing angels smoking and I think that's probably why I put a cigarette in an angel's hand every once in a while.

Your dad took you to all your early concerts. What were some of the first concerts you went to?
My very first concert was Queen, News Of The World. That was awesome. We saw them in a blizzard, sold out. He took my older sister and all her friends, and I ended up getting a couple of tickets and went with my friend.

Growing up, was it hard to explain your career to your parents?
They were very supportive. My dad was an artist, and he was an instructor at the Cleveland Institute of Art. He definitely supported and helped encourage and develop my art throughout the years, so that wasn't a problem.

Did you go straight into college after high school?
Kind of. I was a screw-up, big time. I had a big-time drug and alcohol problem, which developed in early high school, so it carried with me into college and obviously that was my priority over school or anything, because that's the nature of the beast. So I was in and out of school forever, until I sobered up, and then got my focus and proceeded to try to make up for lost time.

Were you doing art in those darker days?
Sure. I was doing some art, but it definitely wasn't focused and it wasn't pure and it wasn't disciplined and it was enough to get by for school. In the off time, there was no art. It was like doing crime to get the money to get your booze or your drugs with my friends, my delinquent friends who weren't in school, so they were definitely a distraction.

About what time did you start booking concerts?
Well, I left Cleveland and went to Detroit for a couple years of school, because I thought my problem—I was blaming it on my friends and the environment and actually my own booze and stuff went with me to Detroit. Sobered up there. When I moved back to Cleveland, I started booking a room called the Euclid Tavern and that was the end of '89.

Is that when you started doing poster art?
I started doing fliers to promote the shows, and developed a look for these fliers by having all these shows and having to promote them. They were giving me the room for free, but I had to pay for sound and security and pay the bands so I had to make sure I sold these shows. The idea of a flier is to make it look cool enough for someone to pick up and take home, and then hopefully they'll come to the gig. Over the next three to four years that was all I was doing, and at the same time I was studying printmaking at the Cleveland Institute of Art. In '93, I met up with my business partner and he offered to fund one of these concert posters, because I couldn't do it. I'm losing money on shows. I found out you don't book shows if you are a fan of the music. You tend to get too caught up just digging the band and not being a business person, and especially an artist and a music fan. I was losing a fair amount of money.

What are some of the more memorable concerts that you booked?
All the Jesus Lizard shows were pretty awesome. Helmet, the first time through Strap It On. All the Cop Shoot Cop shows. I did it from '89-'95, and as some of the bands outgrew the youth, I was able to hang on to some and put them into bigger rooms, which is awesome. I had developed loyalties with these agents, and these bands, and they didn't want to work with the larger promoters in town.

At what point did you realize art was your career?
Probably around '94. It got to a point where I'm getting attention from these concert posters and I'm losing too much money doing these shows. I was burning out. I was booking shows, I was landscaping, I was going to art school and one of those had to go. So I dropped out of school, and had to keep landscaping to help pay for my losses, and also chopping chicken wings at the Euclid Tavern. It got to a point where the art was much more demanding. In '95, I quit [booking concerts], because there was enough interest in the art that I did not have to book shows anymore.

Some of your pieces were eventually selected for display in the Louvre.
That was around the same time, in '94. They wanted a body of my work for the permanent poster collection, and they have all of my first concert posters. They have about 30 of them from the very first one in a row.

How were they familiar with your work?
An article was written on me in a magazine called Affiche in… I don't know, some European country. The magazine is about poster art, and they read about it and then they contacted me when they saw the art, which came out of the blue. I just got this letter from France one day. It blew me away. It was like nothing I ever aspired to do. Normally, it's like a fine art painter is going to be, "One day I'll be in the Louvre," and here I'm doing concert posters. It was a great honor.

How do you separate your concert art and studio work?
I think I've done one silkscreen concert poster this year. In the past few years I'm moving away from concert posters, just because I'm burned out on them. I am focusing on the fine art angle much more. Actually, I've just done two shows where I didn't have any music-related art at all. It's so nice to be able to develop my art for art's sake and have an audience who appreciates it. I'm still doing commercial work, like CD covers and some posters here and there, but now we've got the clothing line going too.

The Art of Modern Rock came out, and that really has generated a resurgence, as far as interest goes in the concert posters. It's been tough to divorce from them, because all these concert poster people are giving me shit. It won't ever happen entirely, because I do want to still work on CD covers and work with bands that I dig, but I'd rather just do art period, not for a client.

How can bands get your attention?
Hopefully I'm already familiar with them. But I get CDs sent to me in the mail and I get emails and so on and so forth. The majority I can't do. It's just too much. There are so many baby bands that are going to put it out themselves. My low end is pretty damn low. It depends on what you can afford, and we know the major labels can afford more. But for the amount of requests from bands, I can't touch a lot of it, which sucks.

When did the idea for Strhessfest come about?
It evolved over a number of years. It was initially "www.derekhess.com Fest," which was kind of long and it didn't have a flow, so we made it Hess Fest. That show was like a website-release party. It was marginally successful so the following year, the guy who ran the venue said, "Let's do another Hess Fest… I'll let you pick all the bands." So we did it. And then I'm like, I don't want to do this. "Hess Fest," I'm over it. Me Fest! I just came up with Strhess one day. Also we started adding the art galleries to it. And then of course we started the clothing line and what are we going to call it? Well, call it Strhess. That name works and just start marketing and branding that name.

How has the "music-art" world changed since you started?
There's a ton of poster artists out there, and that's good and bad. A lot of the fresh ones are bringing some new ideas to the whole poster thing, whereas it also over-saturates the market. As far as art for the music world, I think there's a lot more competition to do CD covers now, because the labels, the independent and smaller ones, definitely picked up earlier that you need a really sharp package, not only solid music. I think part of that has come with burning CDs and downloading. The majors are catching on.

Do you have any advice for artists looking to work with music?
I've always told people, do fliers for free for a club and the club will appreciate it. You start building your portfolio, but also, the club will distribute your artwork for you. If they're good enough, the agent, the tour manager and the band will take them with them, and that's one way to start getting grassroots exposure with your art. That's what worked for me. Kids will email me like, "I'm doing a couple of fliers, what should I charge?" You can't charge at this point. For just fliers, sometimes for agents and clubs, I don't charge. Especially if they're friends, because they're going to help you along the way as well. It's good to develop music business relationships that way.

Have you ever considered starting a record label?
That's just too much bullshit. We'll just stick with the clothing line. We know tons of people at labels and have working relationships with them.

Was there a point when you felt like you "made it?"
I feel like I'm successful to a certain degree, and I can make a living off of it, but I don't ever feel like I've made it. All is good. Maybe if I was making lots of money and driving that Escalade with the house and three-car garage, maybe then I could start thinking it's comfortable. I live on the third floor of a house, tiny apartment. I drive a '97 Mercury Grand Marquis, which is a good car. I don't know if "making it" is monetary, but I still think there's a way to go.