Part 2

Johnny spent Monday taking paintings to the framers, removing paintings from frames and collecting and delivering.  'Coral's been fantastic - without her, I don't know how I would have managed,' he reported.  So whilst not a day spent in creative fervour, much has been achieved on a practical front.  Johnny's still suffering with shingles, but is a little better  - another drink outside at the Brasserie too, so progress! 

Part 2

By 1969, Johnny was settled in Harrogate and continued to learn and consolidate his experiences thanks to the patronage of Dennis McConnell and Gerry Fox, who provided Johnny with a studio at the rear of their Harrogate warehouse for him to use, when he was not providing advice and expertise on colour schemes for their interior design clients.

Further support and opportunities were provided by Hugh Murray, who encouraged Johnny’s forays into sculpting and employed Johnny’s extensive knowledge of English water colours to build his private collection.  Regular trips to Sotheby’s in London enabled Johnny to soak up the art on offer in the capital.

Work in progress, influence of Matisse

He began his love affairs with Matisse and Klee, who have remained his life-long mentors: the threads of their inspiration run through many of his paintings.  Matisse’s unwavering commitment to his art, despite the frailty of his old age is a powerful model and example to which Johnny aspires.  ‘Life would not be worth living if I couldn’t work,’ he states.

Work in progress, influence of Klee

By now, Johnny was earning a reputation as a working artist in Harrogate and as a result, he was invited to become a lecturer at Harrogate College of Art.  He was selling his work through the Nicholas Treadwell Gallery in London and receiving commissions for sculptures.  It seemed, outwardly at least, that he was finally on his way to a successful career in Art.  But inwardly, it didn’t feel like that at all.

He felt increasingly at odds with London galleries, who advised him to, ‘Come back in two or three years with a style – we can sell that.’   Johnny recalls, ‘I thought, I’ve got to get a style together, but,’ he pauses, ‘I am not a commercial artist, I don’t paint to sell – I paint to express – I didn’t want to be channelled into a particular style, I wanted to explore.’  Neither was life at the Art College running smoothly, where Johnny’s attitude was at times challenging to the administration and he was under pressure to adopt a more conventional approach.  Increasingly he was the square peg in the round hole as he tried to become the artist that the galleries would sell, the teacher who obeyed the rules and the responsible husband and father.

By 1971, Johnny had reached the Elastic Limit.  He was painting things he didn’t want to paint, was unwilling to compromise at college as teaching moved away from the disciplines of painting and drawing and of which Johnny took a dim view; it was a sacrilege to lower their status.  His home life was increasingly turbulent.

The Envelope

‘I was troubled,’ recalls Johnny.  ‘I could not sort my head out and something was telling me that the remedy was in Art.  I sat up all night painting and the Envelope painting came out of that situation.  It seemed to be the answer – the inside being the soul or spirit and the exterior is reality.

‘After the Envelope all I wanted to do was develop the inside,' he explains.  'The style is the outside of the Envelope, which everyone understands - it is the picture.  But the inside is abstract – that’s where the story and imagination are – it has nothing to do with style.  That’s why I don’t paint pictures.

'The Envelopes brought things to a head.  I thought fuck it!  I got all my paintings back from Nicholas Treadwell - gave up my job as a lecturer at Harrogate College of Art.  My marriage ended …’  It was an angst-ridden period.

Johnny's last public exhibition was held at the West Yorkshire Playhouse, Leeds in December 1972.  The theatre manager was unenthusiastic about the Envelope paintings hanging on one arm of the staircase. 'My five year old could do better than that,' he remarked.

On the opposite staircase were drawings of what America was up to in Vietnam.  ‘Napalm bombs!’ Johnny remembers, ‘I mean to drop it on a village with women and children - for the Americans - of all people - to do that!

‘With my Vietnam drawings, I was trying to sort out the depth of the Envelope.  I cut the drawings in half - I likened it to the rape of a country.  America was represented as an owl - attacking in the night - silently.  Vietnam was a woman.  The theatre manager deemed these drawings pornographic.  "I've got a lot of women and children coming here!" he said and campaigned for the exhibition to be removed.  Anyway, after much ado, the exhibition stayed.

'It was the Envelopes, combined with circumstance that turned me into a proper artist.  If I'm going to be an artist, I thought, I'm going to do it for all the right reasons.  For my sort of an artist, earning a living is secondary to the statement - I was reassured and encouraged by people like Mohammed Ali refusing the Draft, Kurt Vonnegut and Frank Zappa.  I wanted to be part of that - not the Establishment - it was the Protest!  And it was the time when I understood that if you're going to follow your dream, you have to be one hundred per cent honest.  If what you are doing feels right, then it will be, because you have told the truth.

‘Since then,' he continues, 'I've only exhibited in pubs, furniture shops and restaurants, where friends have given me space.  The whole point is my underground-ness.  The story of my life is my paintings.'

Part 3 to follow …