La casa secondo John Waters. Intervista realizzata in occasione della prima mostra personale di John Waters alla Galleria Emi Fontana a Milano nel 1997 pubblicata solo in inglese sul sito del giornale Abitare.

The home according John Waters. Interview realized on the occasion of John Waters first solo exhibition at the Emi Fontana Gallery in Milan in 1997 and posted on the Abitare website magazine.

PL: How important is the idea of home in your movies? 

JW: It is important! It's very important because it reveals the taste of my characters. To me, furniture is more a reflection of humor... I don't live like my movies. When people come to my house they're always shocked because I have antiques, rare rugs, and contemporary art. They think I'm going to have the '50s, modern, collectible stuff, but I don't have them. It seems to be what people expect when they come to my home.

PL: Do you design the interiors for your films?

JW: No, I have somebody named Vincent Peranio who has worked with me from the very beginning, doing all the art direction for my movies. He did it in Pink Flamingoes up till Serial Mom, and also for the TV show Homicide, so he's done a lot of movies. We talk about it, and we have meetings beforehand, but now we hardly have to say anything anymore. He knows what I like, he really knows it well.

PL: So you choose the colors and everything ...

JW: Yes, in the old days, in the early movies, we went shopping together. He still shows me drawings and that kind of stuff, we'd even go shopping during Serial Mom ... but he certainly designs all the things that come up.

PL: Do you like Italian design?

JW: I certainly do, yes. I don't know a huge amount about it but in America, it's all the rage: people fall to their knees in front of it and pray to it, in some stores. It's something huge in America right now: the most collectible thing. It's the thing, the kind of look that every young, smart kid wants to have in their apartments today.

PL: But not you...

JW: I don't dislike it at all, but I don't personally have it. I mostly have antiques and... my favorite kind of thing would be one of the most hideous Jeff Koons pieces next to the likes of a Chippendale couch...

PL: So what's our home-like, the one where you actually live?

JW: Well, I really have two homes, because I live in New York, but my house in Baltimore is my main one. It's a sort of European-looking house, from the outside. It's got four floors, it's very homey, plenty of books. Every room has a huge amount of books in it, and a lot of rare rugs. It's mostly antiques but I also have contemporary art, and then I have an electric chair in my hall! I'm so used to it, I put the mail and my coat on it. It was made for one of my movies and it's an exact replica. You know, it's sometimes good for the phone man or somebody else. You should see their faces ... they do the job quickly and get out. Have a seat, please! (laughs)

PL: Is it true that you bought the house that used to scare you when you were a kid?

JW: Well, sure. I went to a school very near to this house and it looked kind of like... I called it Dracula House. It was never for sale. After many years I went there, and out of the door came this woman: "Oh, you're John Waters!" She recognized me. And I said: "Would you ever sell me this house?" And she said: "Maybe". I nagged her for five years, and finally, I got it.

PL: Do you think you're a kitsch artist?

JW: Kitsch to me is... an old-fashioned word. To me "trash" or "filth" would be much better. To me, kitsch sounds like "a kitsch cupboard", a word from a 30s musical, a Rita Hayworth movie. "Trash" is more aggressive, it's meaner and funnier. Trash is beautiful to me because it's really looking up to the subject matter, it's not making fun of it. I really do envy people who have that taste because it's freedom, the freedom I don't have, not to care what other people think. I respect people who really have pink flamingoes on the front door. They're not doing that for irony. I don't like yuppies who do it because they're making fun of it. I didn't ever try to make fun of bad taste. I'm amazed by it, but I don't make it looking down on it.

PL: Would you allow a magazine to publish an article on your house?

JW: No, it's the last privacy I have left. When I was young, Divine* and I used to read your kind of magazine and plot how to rob the houses: "Do they have that painting? That's where it is!" "You see the security locks on the windows... Look at the burglar alarms!"

PL: (laughs) It’s a vanity we have to be careful of...

John Waters is a film director from Baltimore, known as the Pope of Trash or The King of Vomit, and has written and directed films, among which some have become cults like Pink Flamingos, Desperate Living, and Polyester. He wrote the books Shock, Crackpot, Trash Trio, and Director’s Cut. In 1997 he showed his photographs at the Emy Fontana Gallery in Milan.

La casa secondo John Waters. Intervista realizzata in occasione della prima mostra personale di John Waters alla Galleria Emi Fontana a Milano nel 1997 pubblicata solo in inglese sul sito del giornale Abitare.

The home according John Waters. Interview realized on the occasion of John Waters first solo exhibition at the Emi Fontana Gallery in Milan in 1997 and posted on the Abitare website magazine.

PL: How important is the idea of home in your movies? 

JW: It is important! It's very important because it reveals the taste of my characters. To me, furniture is more a reflection of humor... I don't live like my movies. When people come to my house they're always shocked because I have antiques, rare rugs, and contemporary art. They think I'm going to have the '50s, modern, collectible stuff, but I don't have them. It seems to be what people expect when they come to my home.

PL: Do you design the interiors for your films?

JW: No, I have somebody named Vincent Peranio who has worked with me from the very beginning, doing all the art direction for my movies. He did it in Pink Flamingoes up till Serial Mom, and also for the TV show Homicide, so he's done a lot of movies. We talk about it, and we have meetings beforehand, but now we hardly have to say anything anymore. He knows what I like, he really knows it well.

PL: So you choose the colors and everything ...

JW: Yes, in the old days, in the early movies, we went shopping together. He still shows me drawings and that kind of stuff, we'd even go shopping during Serial Mom ... but he certainly designs all the things that come up.

PL: Do you like Italian design?

JW: I certainly do, yes. I don't know a huge amount about it but in America, it's all the rage: people fall to their knees in front of it and pray to it, in some stores. It's something huge in America right now: the most collectible thing. It's the thing, the kind of look that every young, smart kid wants to have in their apartments today.

PL: But not you...

JW: I don't dislike it at all, but I don't personally have it. I mostly have antiques and... my favorite kind of thing would be one of the most hideous Jeff Koons pieces next to the likes of a Chippendale couch...

PL: So what's our home-like, the one where you actually live?

JW: Well, I really have two homes, because I live in New York, but my house in Baltimore is my main one. It's a sort of European-looking house, from the outside. It's got four floors, it's very homey, plenty of books. Every room has a huge amount of books in it, and a lot of rare rugs. It's mostly antiques but I also have contemporary art, and then I have an electric chair in my hall! I'm so used to it, I put the mail and my coat on it. It was made for one of my movies and it's an exact replica. You know, it's sometimes good for the phone man or somebody else. You should see their faces ... they do the job quickly and get out. Have a seat, please! (laughs)

PL: Is it true that you bought the house that used to scare you when you were a kid?

JW: Well, sure. I went to a school very near to this house and it looked kind of like... I called it Dracula House. It was never for sale. After many years I went there, and out of the door came this woman: "Oh, you're John Waters!" She recognized me. And I said: "Would you ever sell me this house?" And she said: "Maybe". I nagged her for five years, and finally, I got it.

PL: Do you think you're a kitsch artist?

JW: Kitsch to me is... an old-fashioned word. To me "trash" or "filth" would be much better. To me, kitsch sounds like "a kitsch cupboard", a word from a 30s musical, a Rita Hayworth movie. "Trash" is more aggressive, it's meaner and funnier. Trash is beautiful to me because it's really looking up to the subject matter, it's not making fun of it. I really do envy people who have that taste because it's freedom, the freedom I don't have, not to care what other people think. I respect people who really have pink flamingoes on the front door. They're not doing that for irony. I don't like yuppies who do it because they're making fun of it. I didn't ever try to make fun of bad taste. I'm amazed by it, but I don't make it looking down on it.

PL: Would you allow a magazine to publish an article on your house?

JW: No, it's the last privacy I have left. When I was young, Divine* and I used to read your kind of magazine and plot how to rob the houses: "Do they have that painting? That's where it is!" "You see the security locks on the windows... Look at the burglar alarms!"

PL: (laughs) It’s a vanity we have to be careful of...

John Waters is a film director from Baltimore, known as the Pope of Trash or The King of Vomit, and has written and directed films, among which some have become cults like Pink Flamingos, Desperate Living, and Polyester. He wrote the books Shock, Crackpot, Trash Trio, and Director’s Cut. In 1997 he showed his photographs at the Emy Fontana Gallery in Milan.