Victor Stamp glimpsed daylight for the first time on the 22nd April 1957, some 20,000 kilometres south of where he was supposed to have been born. By some cosmic mistake he was not born in Paris or in West Berlin, but in Cygnet, a picturesque coastal town in the Huon Valley in Southern Tasmania.
Stamp, who once sardonically defined himself as 'the reprobate son of a long-sighted Presbyterian and a dentist's daughter', was haunted by the dream of a mythical Europe from an early age. Against all the odds he challenged the pre-determined social and genetic structure, ignored the siren call of dentistry and from an early age expressed himself as an artist and poet. In an interview with Marc Ronceraille, Stamp relates how, at fourteen, during a trip to Hobart with his parents, he bought a second-hand copy of the complete poetry of Mallarme (Penguin edition) that changed his life forever. But his obsession with the icy infinities of pure poetry collided head-on with the tedium of daily life in a corner of the world where, as stated in a not entirely new guidebook: 'one of the main forms of entertainment is to watch the brush-making competition.'
In 1977, without finishing college, Stamp sailed to Europe, never to return. Over the next fifteen years and before turning exclusively to his artistic endeavours, he undertook a variety of projects helped along by his flair for teaching himself new skills he wanted to pick up.
When not designing and co-ordinating artistic events, he can be found walking the pavements of the streets and boulevards of the great European cities, merging his reflection in the shop windows with the silent interrogation of the items. However, he rarely stops to buy anything.