When I was 17, I left home and went to LA where, knowing not a single soul in a city of millions, I called Sean Cliver to go skate. (He’d absent-mindedly given me his number on a skate tour six months earlier.) Being fellow skaters, we went skating one night, and afterward he let me move out of my car and unfold my sleeping bag on the hardwood floor of his studio apartment for a few days, and even bought me a burrito. Strange, but true.
Sean might’ve been a bit sympathetic because he’d also ended up in California under unusual circumstances. A skater from Wisconsin, Cliver won a Powell-Peralta art contest advertised in Thrasher magazine. Winning the contest landed him a graphics job at Powell’s board factory in Santa Barbara, California. A true skater and never one to go too corporate, he was soon lured away to World Industries in LA and, along with partner-in-crime Marc McKee, began a golden age in skate art, creating some of the funniest, most parentally-offensive, and now most collectible skate graphics ever. When World Industries started its own magazine, Big Brother, Sean started a writing career. (BB is kind of like the grandfather of Vice, but better and with only slightly more skateboarding, if you didn’t know.) He eventually put art on the back burner (and, well, on Birdhouse boards) to become the editor of the magazine when it was bought by Larry Flynt. After a couple of bizarre years under Larry Flynt Publications, the Big Brother staff moved on to start a little TV franchise based on the magazine: Jackass.
In the midst of his showbiz success, Cliver also managed to write the encyclopedia of skate graphics, Disposable: A History of Skateboard Art. (It’s worth its weight in gold, especially if you want to see where all of streetwear’s graphic designers filch their ideas from.) With Disposable II: A Skateboard Collector’s Bible out, I decided to catch up with an old acquaintance.
Sean, you’ve found success as a graphic artist, TV writer, movie producer and writer of highly revered books and magazines. How the hell do you explain such high accomplishments in such unrelated fields? Are you a genius or some shit?
Have you ever seen the movie Being There? Well, that’s me: Chauncey Gardiner. To say I’m anything more than that would be a grave disservice to the memory of Peter Sellers, because I seriously haven’t gone out of my way to be any of the above-mentioned things…they just happened. My wife loves me, but she seriously hates me for this uncanny ability.
How did the collaboration with Supreme come about? Did you overcharge them by as much as they’ll overcharge everyone else?
They called me up out of the blue in mid-2007 and asked if I’d be interested in doing a couple boards for them. And I’d have to say I was honored—I wasn’t exactly a Beautiful Loser, you know—but not only that, they offered way above and beyond the “standard” going rate in the industry. Ever since the commodification of skateboards, artists tend to the get the shit end of the pay stick, so this was a welcome change indeed—especially with me having to support a family and all. Plus, it was a chance to do something I could really have fun with, as opposed to say most of what I’d done the previous 10 years graphic-wise.
Are you still doing it all by hand?
Yes, I’m the self-proclaimed John Henry of skateboard artists. I never made the computerized jump and pretty much obsoleted myself in the clueless process. Supreme nearly shit themselves when I turned in the black and white line art and asked if rubylith seps would work for the color passes. Apparently there was a little misunderstanding up front in our talks, when I was fairly certain I’d explained my professional shortcomings, but Will Carpio at Supreme did an amazing job at translating my marker comps into functional computer separations.
You never had much of a relationship with most of the skaters you were drawing boards for. Does it seem weird to you that you’d just slap together your drawings with someone else’s name, then sell it as part of their image?
Both skaters and the industry stopped caring about those things a long time ago. I always welcomed the skaters’ input, but in the early ’90s it turned into the “quick graphics for quick cash” game. Some skaters still care, but others could give a flying fuck. Although I did have a bitch of a time at Birdhouse last year when they gave Shaun White a pro model. He had some real ideas about what he wanted on his board, but I really wasn’t into any of his ideas. In fact, that was one of the souring factors in my decision to take a sabbatical from the skateboard graphics trade for a year. Only recently did I come out of “retirement” to do one for Girl Skateboards and it looks like I might be doing a few more select boards for different companies in the near future.
You’ve admitted you’re an obsessive rare board collector. What’s your Holy Grail?
Yes, I’m incredibly impaired in the sentimental department. In terms of keeping with the seemingly “unobtainable” Holy Grail concept, that would be an unskated Powell-Peralta Steve Caballero pro model from 1980—the one with the dragon on the bearing. I had a chance at buying the only NOS publicly known Cab board in 2003, but had to unfortunately tap out when the price topped $8,000. I’m depraved when it comes to old boards, no doubt, but I just couldn’t justify going the distance in the end. But as far as my favorite boards I’ve managed to snag…shit. I guess it might come down to the NOS Powell-Peralta Ray “Bones” Rodriguez snub-nose, NOS World Industries Jovontae Turner Napping Negro, NOS 101 Natas Kaupas Devil Worship, and the first NOS “pig” version of John Gibson’s Pushead Cow Skull model on Zorlac. As you can see, I get real wordy and nerdy about these old boards, hence my recent two-year affair on a follow-up book to my first, Disposable: A History of Skateboard Art.
What makes you want to push the envelope?
I don’t think I’ve ever thought, “Holy crap, I’ve really got to push the fuck out of this envelope!” I just like to do or be involved with things that are fun, make me laugh, or just make life a bit more bearable and absurd in general. Well, maybe that doesn’t say a whole hell of a lot for me as a person, but, so be it.
With regard to the whole Jackass/Wildboyz franchise, have you ever thought to yourself, “Holy shit, I think we’ve finally gone too far.”
I don’t know if it’s sad, pathetic or what, but I don’t think so. I mean, nothing has felt too terribly wrong yet and I generally have a good moral compass—all things considered. I really try not to over-think this shit. Otherwise you just wind up sounding like phenomenologist Shepard Fairey. So let’s just say I ran away and joined the circus and leave it at that.
How odd was it when a former World Industries artist became an editor-in-chief at Larry Flynt Publications?
Yes, incredibly odd. Just goes to show you what a good 12th grade education will get you in life. I vaguely remember the “i before e” rule, but I don’t know shit from shat about a conjunctive or participle. So being called an “editor-in-chief” is rather absurd at best, much less the idea of working in a famous Beverly Hills building and receiving invitations to attend porno sets. So bizarre… Needless to say, some of the best times of my life were had at Big Brother, and it certainly did afford me a second chance at reliving the teenage life I’d never had while growing up in Wisconsin. Likewise, I guess I’ve seen and participated in a lot of crazy shit, but when hard pressed for an explanatory memory or two, all I can immediately recall is the time we momentarily convinced Rick Kosick that pedophiles were people who enjoyed having pets.
Have your parents disowned you? Or do they just not ask about your career anymore, like some sort of ignorant bliss thing?
They’ve been remarkably tolerant thus far and continue to remind me that they’re very proud of all that I do. But that’s exactly how parents should be: unconditionally happy for their happy children.
You’ve mentioned a conservative upbringing to me before. Did that encourage you to push the limits of conventional taste, or was that just the influence of skateboarding?
For whatever reason I’ve always attempted to obsessively dive toward the bottom of the barrel in whatever I may be interested: movies, comics, art, etc. One of the happier moments of my life in 2006 was getting the chance to meet John Waters. I rarely fan out and ask for photos with people, but I had to degrade myself and do exactly that before the king of degradation.
Clearly religion isn’t holy to you. Is there anything you hold sacred?
There are things I hold sacred, but they’re mostly related to my son and his parenting. We unplugged the cable and turned off the TV soon after our son was born. He’s 6 years old now and never seen a drop of media, including movies, video games, DVDs, etc., which is a real trick to do living in Los Angeles. Luckily we found a good Waldorf school in the area and comfortably insulated ourselves amongst other families with similar values. Some people find this odd, given what I’m involved with, but so it goes. If anything my experiences have taught me to be actively involved in my son’s life. And that’s not exactly a bad thing.
Finally, is there any philosophy (or more than one), expression, maxim, advice, or anything at all you’ve found that you think can explain this life?
I’ve always lived by two simple theories. One great passage is found in the works of Harold Ramis, and it goes: “Lighten up, Francis.” The other is from a previously referenced work that has carried me well, as well: “Life—is a state of mind.”
Text by: PJ Canale
