John Brockington Paintings

About The Artist

I was born in Bristol in 1961. I moved to London in 1979 to study at the ‘Slade School of Fine Art’. There I set out in pursuit of the traditional skills. Accurate renderings of anatomy, colour and perspective, are the building blocks for my paintings. In my paintings, firstly I set out to create a thing of beauty, secondly, I try to use symbolism and narrative to load the work with ideas – for those willing to dig a little deeper.

Over thirty years I have worked within these same principles, building a body of work that has a strong visual impact, but also a lot to say for itself under the surface. Over recent years -especially – the narrative elements in my pictures have woven together and the same characters repeatedly appear. Another development for me has been the way my home town of Clevedon has become a sort of magical setting for my paintings. Together these elements give a sense of cohesion to the world that I depict.

With so much ‘King’s new clothesery’ abounding in the contemporary art world these days, it’s more important than ever to hold to one’s artistic principles.

Posted on 03/03/201825/04/2020 by John Brockington

The Luxury Of Looking Back

Hi and welcome to my new website which has been rebuilt for me from the ground up by my son Roy, to whom I am very grateful indeed.

I guess by now I have the luxury of looking back here, at a good proportion of my career arc. When I look over my paintings I see the exuberance and arrogance of youth slowly giving way to a more subtle ‘less is more’ approach. Hopefully the years of studio work have also paid off in a more refined technique and an ability to spot a major flaw. There’s no denying that with mature years come limitations; eyesight is not as super sharp as it once was and there’s a suspicion that sometimes you’re repeating yourself.

That would be a shame, as I’m proud of some of the images I’ve concocted and the themes I’ve tried to illustrate, so I try and avoid diluting the body of work amassed over almost 40 years.

Whilst what I call the major works are slower arriving these latter years, the sketchbooks and journals are as busy as ever and I’m continually rehearsing new themes, ideas and connections and new ways of communicating them visually. Typically, I will work through an idea for two or three years in the sketchbooks; this means a sequence of anything from ten to twenty quite polished A3 drawings as well as larger drafts. Quite often these chapters, albeit well developed, are set aside as new ideas come along and realistically some won’t ever come to realization. This is a pity as there is some good work there and some of the drawings, though fragmentary, have a charm and vivacity of their own. To save them from extinction it is my intention to publish some of these sketchbook ‘ideas in progress’, here and on my blog…watch this space ☺

If it’s not fresh and challenging every time, you’re not doing it right!

John Brockington Sketch The other mainstay of mine and any figurative artist’s career is figure drawing and painting from the live model. The confrontation between artist and model never fails to bring both inspiration and a continual honing of technique. If it’s not fresh and challenging every time, you’re not doing it right!

Again, these working drawings from life are more often than not consigned to the drawer, so to give them their moment in the sun I will also seek to publish some of these more regularly.

Finally, a lot of people have asked me about my painting ‘method’ and since showing is easier than telling, I will be featuring some chronological photo sequences showing the creation of some of my paintings.

John Brockington 2018

Magenta

Standing nude figure, Mariola. Painted from life.

The Good Father

This work takes a different slant on the myth of Daedalus and Icarus, concentrating on the dynamic between father and son. Here Icarus is shown as the reluctant recipient of his father’s new invention – a pair of wings – about to be shoved off a precipice on his first test flight to oblivion. Daedalus will explain away any guilt in the death of his son by saying he flew too close to the sun. The fable is traditionally interpreted as a warning against hubris but I prefer to look at the psychology…

I have often sought the reason behind the gulf that exists sometimes, between a mature son and his father. However close the childhood bond, that emotional fluency so often becomes mute as the years pass. I think the story in this picture represents an important mechanism in that alienation.

The power balance between the Father’s ‘godhead’ and the son’s putative self-determinism results in endless scope for conflict and loggerheads. The son, ever more aware of self-impulse and the potentials therein, creatively seeks to navigate the father’s labyrinth of control mechanisms. Exasperation results on both sides.

In the end, the father must relinquish his controlling and the way might be clear for reconciliation provided the damage has not been too severe.

The Daedalus of myth was a figure of seemingly unlimited genius and invention, but like the flawed father here, he had feet of clay; when Perdix beat him to the invention of the saw, Daedalus threw his rival from a precipice. The gods transformed Perdix into a pigeon to save him. The saw and pigeon are both depicted here.

Hinterland

The punishment of a collaborator or a martyr; an exploration of original Sin.

Death Of Caravaggio

The artist’s great spirit finally succumbs at Porto Ercole as the night fishing boats return.

The End Of The Strawberry Line

A railwayman’s work shack.

After Me Comes The Flood

The Sailor is an unwilling recipient of the Gypsy’s fortune telling. The chalice of red wine had concealed 30 pieces of silver.

Abraham and Isaac

I explored the notion of child sacrifice in a pair of paintings. Firstly in a ‘New World’ Inca setting – the so called ‘capacocha’ burials in the high Andes. Secondly through this story, of Abraham, tasked by God with the killing of his own son. Integral to three major religions, the parable also has echoes of a dark ‘Old world’ pre-history.

The frozen ‘font’ is superimposed on a mosaic depicting Orpheus, who was torn to shreds for losing faith with his god, Dionysus.

Edwina

Edwina was a dancer with the Ballet Rambert at Saddlers Wells in London. She also moonlighted as a figure model at the Slade, which is where I painted this.