Maxwell Paternoster is a London-based artist and illustrator whose distinctive line-drawn style channels the raw energy of underground comics while carving out a unique niche in motorcycle culture. Originally from the English countryside of Suffolk, Paternoster has built a career transforming two-dimensional illustrations into tangible art on helmets, jackets, motorcycles, and even chainsaws. His work, described as what would happen if R. Crumb's brain soaked in gasoline and LSD, blends deranged imagery with poignant satire and dark humor. The artist combines contemporary malaise with good old-fashioned strangeness, swapping Crumb's iconic ballooned figures for sweaty robots and laser skulls. In a recent interview with Gregory George Moore, Paternoster discussed his artistic journey, unconventional canvas choices, and the influences that shape his wandering mind.
Paternoster's visual vocabulary draws heavily from his rural upbringing and eclectic artistic tastes. Growing up surrounded by farm machinery and tractors in Suffolk, he developed an early fascination with mechanical objects. "I got an old motorcycle to ride around the fields on when I was a kid," he recalled, explaining how this childhood exposure naturally merged with his illustration work. The artist cites surrealism and British comedy as foundational influences, particularly surrealist comedians Vic Reeves and Bob Mortimer, who helped shape his appreciation for twisted phrases and characters. This combination of interests created what he calls a "trip of contemporary malaise" mixed with old-fashioned strangeness. As he began drawing bikes and cars in his illustration work, the motorcycle community took notice, establishing his niche within that world.
Paternoster's most unexpected medium emerged from years of sketching chainsaws, which he simply found to be "quite a cool thing to draw." His research into competitive chainsawing revealed a wild subculture centered around events like Stihl Timbersports, where modified saws slice through massive logs in seconds. "There are methanol chainsaws, large displacement saws, everyone has expansion chambers," he noted, describing saws powered by motorcycle engines and even V8 car engines operated by two people. Determined to create authentic pieces, he sourced two 1980s Sachs Dolmar saws—one 60cc discovered in his father's overgrown garden, and another 95cc found later—both far exceeding standard home chainsaw sizes of 35-55cc. Fabricator Geoff Cain at Co-Built created the distinctive expansion chamber exhausts that appear to aim at the user's face but actually "poke out sideways." The project taught him extensively about timber sports culture and the engineering extremes competitors pursue.
When not customizing power tools, Paternoster rides a BSA M20 rigid frame motorcycle nicknamed "Lazer Death," built piece-by-piece with a B33 500cc engine featuring early Goldstar internals and a skull-with-lightning-bolts tank design. His daily driver is a humble 2002 Skoda Fabia. The artist's self-deprecating humor permeates both his work and conversation—he attributes it simply to being "a bit immature." This playfulness extends to absurd hypothetical questions, such as whether he prefers potatoes or squash, which prompted a multi-paragraph analysis of contextual meanings. He dissected whether "squash" meant the sport, the beverage, the vegetable, or the act of being compressed, ultimately concluding he'd choose potatoes in most scenarios, particularly over playing the game squash, which he dislikes.
Looking ahead, Paternoster hinted at video-based projects still in early development, suggesting fans should keep an eye out for moving-image work that may expand his artistic reach. While details remain scarce, the shift toward video represents a new frontier for the primarily 2D artist. When asked about the meaning of life, he gave the famously concise answer: "Forty-two," referencing Douglas Adams's *The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy*. The interview reveals an artist who transforms mechanical objects into narrative canvases while maintaining a refreshingly unserious approach to both art and existence. His ability to find inspiration in everything from competition chainsawing to childhood memories demonstrates a creative mind that wanders purposefully through the strange and mundane alike.
