Johnny Brewton introduced me to Billy Childish.
If you already know Billy’s work, an introduction is unnecessary. If you don’t, Billy Childish is one of the most fiercely independent artists of the last fifty years—a poet, painter, musician, novelist, woodcut artist, and cultural force whose influence far exceeds his mainstream recognition. Working largely outside traditional institutions, Childish has built an international following through a relentless commitment to making art on his own terms.
And it was through Johnny’s introduction that I had the opportunity to work with Billy on one of my favorite publications: Barry Gifford’s The Strangest One of All, a meditation on Barry’s trip to “The Bunker”.
For the project, Billy created a series of original woodcuts depicting Burroughs. The standard edition features a single Childish woodcut visible through the die-cut window on the cover. The lettered edition of 26 copies includes two additional original woodcuts, housed separately in a manila envelope. Together they form a remarkable visual counterpart to Gifford’s text.
What I particularly love about Billy’s contribution is its directness. Every image focuses on the same subject: William S. Burroughs. Childish strips away mythology and celebrity, returning again and again to the face of the writer himself. The result feels both reverential and unsentimental.
Billy affectionately referred to Burroughs as “the old duffer,” a phrase that still makes me smile. It captures something of Childish’s relationship to literary and artistic heroes. Admiration, certainly—but never worship.
Working with Johnny Brewton, Billy Childish, and Barry Gifford on this project remains one of the highlights of my synaesthesia life.
