The Creative Life of Leigh Bowery

From his arrival in London, clutching a suitcase and sewing machine, to his death from AIDS in 1994, artist, performer, musician, club promoter and fashion designer Leigh Bowery led an extraordinary life.

Born in Melbourne, Leigh Bowery arrived in London in the 1980s, bringing with him a vibrant and energetic personality that suited the club scene of the time. He tried his hand at fashion, performance art, television, music and dance – as Sue Tilley says in her book, ‘no one who saw him performing will ever forget the experience.’

Candidly and affectionately written, Sue Tilley’s personal account of her life with Leigh is the basis of Leigh Bowery: The Life and Times of an Icon – and in a conversation with Thames & Hudson’s Curtis Garner, Tilley offers us an intimate look at the man behind the curtain.

Curtis Garner (CG): Your biography of Leigh Bowery was originally published in 1997. What has it been like to revisit after all these years? 

Sue Tilley (ST): It’s all very peculiar… I feel like my past is chasing me… I keep remembering things that I’d forgotten and loads of people I once knew are getting in touch and reminding me of other things. My memory must really be going though, because when I reread the book for editing I couldn’t remember a couple of the events ever taking place let alone writing about them, which is particularly strange considering I must have read it at least 50 times over the last 28 years for various reasons.

CG: Can you tell us about the image of Leigh on the cover of the book? 

ST: It’s a photo taken by Kate Garner who became a photographer after the demise of Haysi Fantayzee. There’s nothing I love more than an 80s popstar, so I was thrilled that her image was chosen. It also features Leigh’s drip head which I helped him to perfect when I suggested he use copydex (or rubber solution glue as they use to call it on Blue Peter) to make the ink stick to his head!

CG: Leigh Bowery was an incredible artist and designer, but to you he was a close friend. How did you meet? 

ST: I was friends with Stephen Luscombe from [the band] Blancmange and he told me and my flatmates we should go to ChaChas round the back of Heaven. It was a very alternative night run by Scarlett Bordello and Ross Cannon. I met loads of new friends there including a tall cherub-faced boy who Stephen introduced me to. Leigh wasn’t the famous ‘Leigh Bowery’ then, just one of the young trendy kids who hung round all the clubs. We just sort of got on and were best mates within a couple of weeks.

CG: It’s fair to say that Leigh used several mediums to express his creativity. What do you think inspired him most? 

ST: I would say performing, because everything that he got involved in had performance at its core… ballet, fashion, music, nightclubs, TV. In fact, his whole life was a performance… he was born to show off and he did a great job of it.

CG: Leigh’s love of fashion made him an instantly iconic figure in 80s London. What did he love so much about fashion? 

ST: I think it was clothes rather than fashion that inspired him. He had no interest in high street fashion and never wanted to be part of it. But he was thrilled by haute couture and loved to investigate how the garments were constructed, and in his early career was very inspired by Vivienne Westwood – as many people in the 80s were.
He loved the way that clothes give a clue as to who you are and can express your personality. As his personality was so unique it’s no surprise that his clothes were unique too. He didn’t really like designing unless it was for himself or a pop star or a ballet.

CG: You mention an interview where Leigh said that every time he went out, it became a performance. When he started doing performance art, was it a natural progression? What was his process like when he was working on shows? 

ST: It was because as he did it all the time, he might as well do it on a stage and get paid for it. Not that he was motivated by money at all.
When he was working on a project, he’d come up with an idea and think of ways to put it into practice. He’d usually rope in a few people to help him and rehearse for a bit and then do a show. He tried to be very professional, but it didn’t usually go to plan, mainly because everyone was drunk and he chose to work with people with minds of their own, so there was often some friction.

But if the show was a success, he’d hone the details and perform it several times. A good example of this was the birth show that he did with Nicola.

CG: Do you remember going to see his show at Anthony’s gallery? What was it like, being in the audience? 

ST: I went with my mum, who was a bit discombobulated by the whole thing. I’d gone backstage first as I’d brought a helmet that I’d made for him, so I sort of knew what to expect. I knew most of the audience, so I was looking at them more than Leigh. I didn’t know much about performance art, but I realised that it was a turning point for Leigh as it made him be taken seriously rather than just being an eccentric club kid.

CG: There is a stunning photograph of Leigh posing for Lucian Freud in his studio. Can you tell us more about their relationship? 

ST: They got on amazingly well and had great respect for each other. They admired each other’s intellect and learnt a lot from each other. I think that painting Leigh made Lucian change his style of painting. He had to paint bigger, and with bigger brush strokes to do justice to Leigh’s monumental stature. And Leigh learnt a lot about art from Lucian, which he soaked up like a sponge.

CG: You also sat for Lucian as he painted. Do you have any favourite stories from your time as one of his models? 

ST: It was a wonderful experience but not nearly as exciting as people seem to imagine. Usually, I’d arrive early, have a bit of breakfast and then sit for the whole morning before Lucian made me lunch or took me to The River Café, which of course I preferred.  

We were on the way there once and he was driving his gold Bentley. We were going down a very narrow road in Fulham and a car came in the opposite direction. Lucian could easily have slipped into a gap on the side of the road but refused and just stayed in the middle of the road so the fella had to sheepishly reverse while this little old man peered over the huge steering wheel doing the action of pulling the toilet chain as if to say that the man was shit.

Another time we were driving thorough Earl’s Court, and a black cab overtook the Bentley. Lucian was furious so he drove up onto the pavement and overtook the cab on the inside. I was mortified and tried to sink as far down into my seat as I could so I wouldn’t be seen.

CG: What is it that you think draws people to Leigh and his work? 

ST: I never really know. I think that it must be because his personality was so huge there was a part of him that appealed to everyone.
And he could be incredibly charming. He used to go round his club commenting on people’s looks – even if he was rude about someone’s outfit, they’d still be thrilled because at least he’d given them some attention, and being noticed was better than being ignored.

After he died, we held a memorial event at an art gallery on Bond Street that was full of all his friends and collaborators. We were lucky enough to be able to borrow one of Freud’s paintings of Leigh which took centre stage.

Soon after this, I was asked to write this book. It’s strange that 27 years later, it’s been republished to coincide with the show at Tate Modern. Leigh would be so thrilled if he knew that this is what his legacy had become.

Leigh Bowery! runs at Tate Modern from 27 February to 31 August 2025

Leigh Bowery: The Life and Times of an Icon is available now.