THE GARDENER WHO WENT TO HEAVEN

March 2024

Gary Bunt

On 2nd April 2015 my dear old dad sadly passed away. His vegetable patch was behind The Shed (my studio). There were not many days that I wouldn’t hear a knock on the window and a “Morning, son” as he made his way to his parade ground with its regimented beds. The day after he went to meet his maker, I sat in the shed looking through that window at a garden that no longer had a gardener. I sat and drew a staircase ascending to Heaven with Dad climbing the stairs, watched by his old friend.


The drawing was put aside knowing one day it would become a painting. Here we are in the present day. I felt the time was right and from that sketch this book has evolved.


Within these pages there are some light-hearted moments but my faith, following Christ, is a serious part of my life. If I am not painting, I am praying. As my dad the gardener once did, I can only sow the seeds.

My hope is that you, if you don’t already, will pick up the Bible and read the Gospels. Everything you need to know for your own salvation is there, waiting. Although we are saved by grace and faith in Christ, we do need to repent, turn away from sin and be born again in the Spirit.


“Narrow is the way, which leadeth unto life, and few there be that find it.”


I pray that I make it through that narrow gate, and I wonder if one day when I am walking in God’s Garden, I shall hear that familiar “Morning, son” once again. 


Gary Bunt



THE SIMPLE THINGS

Saatchi Gallery, September 2023

Dr James Fox

.All art is wish-fulfilment. Every painting and sculpture, every poem and play, is ultimately driven by its creator’s desire to remake reality as they want it to be. From the fresco painters of the Italian Renaissance to the lyrical landscapists of English Neo-Romanticism, many of our finest artists have dedicated themselves to crystallising, in pictorial form, their vision of a different and better world.


Gary Bunt is one such artist. Born in Kent in 1957 and now based in East Sussex, his entire life has been a quest for redemption and salvation. His art is duly suffused with hope, gratitude and love: for God and family, for country and countryside. His paintings are set in early to mid twentieth century England, which they evoke as a prelapsarian realm of rural life and old-fashioned values. They also seek to capture the world that so many of Bunt’s favourite artists – Stanley Spencer, Paul and John Nash, Eric Ravilious and Alfred Wallis – themselves chronicled.


Though Bunt’s art clearly taps into a wider English nostalgia, it is also profoundly personal. His pictures are in many respects a voyage into his own past. They are set in and around a group of ‘daydream houses’, some of which were inspired by his childhood home in rural Kent, and all of which feature two of Bunt’s long-time protagonists: a broad-shouldered, braces-wearing man and his tirelessly loyal dog. The man is a portrait of Bunt’s beloved father, Bert, who died in 2015, but it is also a portrait of the artist who (though he still feels young) is now as old as the man in the pictures.



The Simple Things is Bunt’s most brilliantly conceived exhibition to date. It focuses on life’s purest pleasures, including friendship, physical affection, gardening, fishing, and even the sweet sensation of being tucked up at home when it’s raining outside. Each of the show’s ten sections contains one large, virtuosic canvas depicting the inside of a house looking out through a window, and a group of smaller, related pictures looking back. Every painting is characteristically charming and unpretentious, but together they add up to nothing less than a philosophy of life itself: a guileless guide to finding happiness.


For Bunt, painting has always been therapeutic. It has become a valuable antidote to the many personal and physical setbacks he has endured in life, and from which he is still recovering. ‘From the mess inside my head,’ he has said, ‘I only paint the nice bits.’ But these ‘nice bits’ are no longer just for his benefit. Over the last two decades Bunt’s art has grown ever more popular with the public. His paintings now hang in homes all over the world, where they bring immeasurable comfort and pleasure.


We shouldn’t be surprised. In this disorientating age, when greed and cynicism reign triumphant and the planet lurches from one crisis to another, Bunt’s gentle, heart-warming art answers a need felt by so many of us. It slows us down, puts a smile on our anxious faces, and reminds us that the simple things in life – love, faith, beauty, and companionship – still matter.


Dr James Fox Cambridge art historian, author and BAFTA nominated broadcast


THE CREATION

Winter 2022

Robin Cawdron-Stewart

As one of the most beloved painters working in Britain today, Gary Bunt has become celebrated for his unique pictorial style. At once familiar and instantly recognisable, he looks back not just to the modern masters that have inspired him, but beyond to the great canons of Western art, bringing a depth of knowledge to his paintings that has captivated audiences for more than two decades now. Those familiar with Bunt’s work will recognise the prevailing trends that dominate much of his output – his deep-rooted fascination (and knowledge surrounding) twentieth century British painting, the playfulness and sense of nostalgia that sing forth from everything that he turns his paintbrush to, and of course the artist’s personal and deep-rooted faith that is never far from the canvas. It is the artist’s faith that is celebrated in this glorious body of new work – his faith in Christ, in art and ultimately in humanity – a message of hope needed now more than ever.


In these eighteen paintings and accompanying poems Bunt looks at the story of the Creation – taken from Genesis, the first book of the Old Testament. It is the gateway for many of us in our first interactions with the Christian faith, taught in homes, primary schools and churches throughout the world, charting the story of God creating darkness and light; the sky, sea and earth; the animals and ultimately man and womankind. Here Bunt reimagines the narrative, bringing together Christ and Bert – the artist’s ‘everyman’ – alongside his ever-faithful dog. In choosing this subject, he is continuing a tradition set forth by a long line of painters – from Renaissance masters such as Tintoretto and Michelangelo through to the Pre-Raphaelites and on to Bunt’s favourite twentieth century painter, the great Stanley Spencer. And just as Spencer reimagined stories from the bible in his home village of Cookham – resurrections in the village churchyard or Christ preaching at the village regatta – 7 so too does Bunt bring a familiarity of setting to these stories, with Christ sowing seeds in the vegetable patch, standing bare foot on the beach, or resting in the rickety wheelbarrow.

Bunt is an artist that has well and truly found his voice – and these paintings showcase his brilliance in and understanding of artistic medium. With rich passages of buttery impasto, and a joyful palette, of greens, blues, yellows, and reds, he tells these stories with a wit and charm that one has come to expect from his paintings. Yet each new work is an excitement of discovery, with details that draw the eye across the canvas – from the riotous pigs tearing up the cauliflower patch, to the Oxo tin full of nails used to attach the sunflower leaves and the paint cans full of the many various Farrow & Ball shades. Alongside his artistic vision there is an indisputable technical brilliance to these works, in contrast to the ‘naive’ label often associated by many with the artist. They showcase Bunt’s understanding of composition, using colour to draw the eye across the canvas. In the introduction to Bunt’s 2021 exhibition, The Man Who Found God, Professor the Rt Rev Lord Harries commented on the ‘wonder and simplicity’ with which the artist sees and understands the world around him. Bunt has made his paintings – and his faith – accessible to one and all, enjoyed by millions (including you, the readers of this new book) through paintings, publications, social media and even animation. Inspired by the way, the truth, the life, he is an artist that refuses to stand still, painting every day with the vigour and enthusiasm that drives and inspires him. Recognised here in this beautiful body of work Bunt’s The Creation is a celebration of faith and a feast for the eyes, the heart, and the soul.


Robin Cawdron-Stewart



ROOMS WITH A VIEW

Autumn 2022

Frances Spalding, CBE, FRSL

Gary Bunt paints, without irony, in a deliberately naïve vein. This sets him apart from mainstream contemporary art. He is an outsider artist, yet highly sought-after. One reason for his popularity is his knowing handling of paint, which owes much to his cultivated interest in modern British art. In his newest series, Rooms with a View, paintings by other artists sneak in, onto the walls around the window framing a landscape view, and some of which are partially hidden by a curtain lifting in the breeze. All are recognisable and much-loved pictures, such as Eric Ravilious’s watercolour of the garden at Brick House, the north-west Essex home which he and Edward Bawden, and their wives, shared briefly. (Myths abound as to why this arrangement came to an end, but the most likely is the too regular appearance of a certain pudding. Here, however, Tirzah and Charlotte sit together happily in the garden.) Bunt’s regular nod in this new series to the work of artists he admires adds a note of sly humour to these richly enjoyable works. It also helps bring into focus the part of England that is being explored.


 It is immediately clear that these Rooms with a View owe much to another series which Bunt produced last year. He created twelve large canvases, each one paying tribute to a different artist whose imagery, choice of colours, painterly method, or general mood has inspired his own working practice. The Modern British Tribute Paintings, to give them their generic title, were the first to reveal how well-versed Bunt is in these artists’ lives and work; in each picture, like a brilliant organist, he pulls out the stops needed to recreate their artistic personalities. Two of the most densely allusive are his tributes to L.S. Lowry and to Christopher N.W.Nevinson. Likewise, the tribute to Stanley Spencer was built up by means of small shocks of recognition, such as the view through a window in which the bridge and river scene is lifted straight out of the background to Spencer’s Swan Upping. On the other side of the picture is a shorthand copy of this artist’s The Last Supper, and, on the table immediately below, sit imitation photographs of Spencer’s two wives and a tiny white cross, itself an allusion to the tumbling white crosses that fill the end wall in the Sandham Memorial Chapel at Burghclere, where the entire decorative scheme concludes with Spencer’s Resurrection of the Soldiers.


Bunt has a habit of building on his recent work, and it is not surprising that Rooms with a View, owe much to his Tribute paintings. What carries over is his ability to make objects speak. In the new series they define a set of interests in Englishness that relate to the view outside.

These rooms do not belong to any specific person, though everything conspires in The Downs, including the view of Mount Caburn, to suggest that this is Peggy Angus’s house ‘Furlongs’, as Robin Cawdron-Stewart suggests.

Among the voluble objects dotted around are three works by Eric Ravilious, who frequently visited Furlongs, while a copy of Noel Carrington’s King Penguin, Life in an English Village, hints at many of the interests that Ravilious, Angus and other of their friends shared.


Elsewhere, in A Rainy Day, a partial view of a brick tower and pebbly beach signals Aldeburgh on the Suffolk coast, while another view takes us back in time to the relaxed mood of a northern industrial town in the 1960s on a Friday night. Bert and his dog, who for some time have formed part of Bunt’s signature style, were absent in the Tribute series, but in Rooms with a View they return, mostly as distant observers. Although they play a part in every scene, the leading protagonists in the narrative of each painting are now the books, toys, knick-knacks, pottery, or pictures sitting on the windowsill or hanging nearby. In Amongst the Daffodils, they activate memories of the Lake District, through Postman Pat (whose author lived at Kendal), characters out of Beatrix Potter’s books, or the artist Sheila Fell, or the Tate painting in which Dora Carrington’s captured a scene at Watendlath. These objects and images are redolent with memories. Here they are laid out for us like messages from the past.


Cawdron-Stewart reminds us of the strong reflective vein in Bunt’s art. These new paintings encourage us to think about culture and its relation to landscape, and about the communities and friendships that thrived in what today may seem idylls of the past. It is as if Bunt is echoing W. H. Auden’s command, gifted us through his book of poems Look, Stranger! (1936). Its eponymous poem begins:


      ‘Look, stranger, at this island now

      The leaping light for your delight discovers.

      Stand stable here

      And silent be…

 

The stranger that Auden is addressing is not a foreigner but someone who has allowed him- or herself to become estranged from his or her immediate environment, who has forgotten the beauty of a flint- and-brick wall and the pleasure to be obtained from domestic objects, views through a window, or a coastline town, even on a rainy day. Bunt, likewise, encourages his viewers to pause and reconnect.


Frances Spalding, CBE, FRSL 

Art historian, biographer and critic



THE MAN WHO FOUND GOD

Portland Gallery, London

2022

Professor the Rt Revd Lord Harries, FRSL

There is a fundamental challenge facing any artist who wishes to convey a religious dimension to life. I believe Gary Bunt addresses that challenge in a fresh and fascinating way. There is something different about his work which draws and affects people deeply. But first we need to understand the nature of the challenge he faces.


All religions claim there is more to life than we can touch and feel; that there is another reality both beyond and deep within things. This reality is not just one thing amongst others, not an item in the world of items. It is difficult enough to convey this reality in words, which are always as misleading as they are true. How much more difficult it is to do so in lines and colours? For many Christians, especially those who belong to one of the Orthodox churches, the most successful way of meeting the challenge has been in Icons. These seek to convey something numinous in a non-literalistic way, and lead the viewer into prayer. Something of that iconic tradition was still present in Western art in the work of artists like Duccio and Giotto. But with them and other artists of the early Renaissance there developed new techniques of perspective making it possible to depict tangible reality more as the eye sees it. Together with this, as for example in the work of Mantegna, there developed the desire to depict historical scenes as they were. The result has been the whole highly skilled tradition of Western art. But was something lost on the way? Does that art succeed in conveying, not just an imagined life of Jesus for example, but that other dimension of life? For many people, if it did once, it no longer does so.


Paradoxically it was with the birth of Modernism about 1913 that new possibilities for religious art opened up. For modernism represented a radical break with literalism and tried to convey something more than what the eye sees. It is no accident that very many of those modernists were deeply religious people, albeit of an unorthodox kind, though some, like Rouault, were profoundly Christian in their work.


There is however another way of trying to convey that religious dimension. It can be seen for example in the work of Albert Herbert (1925-2008). Herbert originally painted in the style of American Abstractionism, but learnt to see and draw again as a child. Jesus said “Unless you become like little children…”. Gary Bunt similarly has learnt to see life with a sense of wonder and simplicity. But he does so in a highly skilled manner combining verse, picture and text, each re-enforcing the other to convey something more going on than the eye can see.



He manages this effect through the complex inter-action of five relationships. The dog and his friend the man ; the dog and the reader; the man and the object of his search; the relationship of the landscape to dog, man and viewer; and the relationship of the text to both story, picture and reader. In each scene that network of relationships can be seen at work, suffusing the whole and conveying a sense of something important going on.


The landscapes in Gary’s paintings are particularly arresting and vibrant, creating a mood in which the whole is set. These alone often manage to convey that mysterious other beyond and within what is seen, whether the scene is one of the countryside or the sea.


The way the man and his dog are depicted in relationship to the landscape is also beautifully judged in reflecting a particular mood. At the same time the relationship of the dog to the the man is also shown in all its charming and affecting variety. Just look at the first three paintings, for example, and note the different pose of the dog in each one. These are not just illustrations; they convey a relationship; what is going on in two minds and the interplay between them.


This is a work for mature adults which children will also enjoy. It is also a work for children which will kindle again in adults that sense of wonder which they had once, and lost awhile; what T.S. Eliot once called “A condition of complete simplicity”.


Professor the Rt Revd Lord Harries, FRSL is a member of the House of Lords, a former Bishop of Oxford and an author. His books include The Image of Christ in Modern Art and Seeing God in Art: the Christian faith in 30 images. 


MODERN BRITISH TRIBUTE PAINTINGS

Portland Gallery, London

2021

Robin Cawdron-Stewart

Great painters have always sought inspiration from the work of others. It is rare to find an artist that does not devour books, catalogues and magazines, nor delights in wandering the halls of typically buzzing galleries and salerooms. Observations feed their creativity and inspire them to create work that is indebted to those that have gone before. Gary Bunt is no exception and his ferocious appetite has long inspired his painterly approach, and the development of his own very distinctive style. In this brave body of work – just twelve paintings – the artist recognises and celebrates those that since childhood have inspired him and spurred him on in his artistic endeavours.


In these wonderful imagined interiors Bunt pays tribute to the genre of Modern British Art – a period stemming from the closing years of the Edwardian era, marked by the end of stuffy, high Victorian aestheticism, through to the birth of the Young British Artists of the 1990s. It is of course an artistic construct, with lines that blur between different fields, periods or geographic regions, but one generally accepted in both a curatorial and commercial setting. Exhibitions have dedicated themselves to the period, and auction houses and galleries specialise in the field, often producing lavishly illustrated catalogues that Bunt loves nothing more than to pore over. It is no surprise that the artist looks to this genre for inspiration for these are the familiar paintings that he grew up with, and their imagery has over the course of the past century filtered into mainstream popular culture.

Those familiar with Bunt’s work may find this body of painting a sharp departure from his usual style, but looking closer they are inextricably linked to the landscapes, subject matters and interiors that make up his paintings. The artist makes no secret of his obsession with the work of painters such as Winifred Nicholson, Alfred Wallis and Christopher Wood, and meticulous little reproductions often appear on the walls of Bert’s (Bunt’s famed farmer figure) home as a subtle nod to the artists that Bunt so adores. He has looked to these painters and recognised their striking ability to develop what is a quintessentially British vernacular that in turn has inspired his work. Technically accomplished, these paintings also showcase Bunt’s rare ability to mirror and borrow the style of many different artists with his brush – flitting like a magpie from the closely detailed hand of Stanley Spencer, to the soft, delicate palette of watercolourist Eric Ravilious or the almost translucent technique of Craigie Aitchison. Bunt picks up their style through intense scrutiny of their techniques, and these canvases reflect hours that the artist has spent to ensure their skills are accurately represented.


These tribute paintings are a passion project for the artist – a testament to the great and talented painters that have gone before, and just as Spencer looked to artists such as Samuel Palmer and William Blake; Churchill to the paintings of his tutors William Nicholson, John Lavery or Walter Sickert or Ben Nicholson and Christopher Wood to the untrained hand of Alfred Wallis, so too Bunt here celebrates the importance of those artists that have inspired him, honouring them in these beautiful painterly memorials. 


Robin Cawdron-Stewart



SEEDS, SEA & SNOW

Portland Gallery, London

2021

Frances Spalding, CBE, FRSL

Gary Bunt has an enormous respect for and love of things. This fact is everywhere present in this exhibition. Just glance at the cover image to this catalogue. Nothing is rushed and everything has its place. The runner beans look promising, with their red flowers. The shepherd’s hut shows its age through the rusty stains on its curved tin roof. The cauliflowers, leeks and onions grow neatly in rows. Washing has been put through the nearby antique wringer and now hangs out to dry. This may not be our world today, and perhaps it never was, but it calls to us and invites us to dwell within it. No wonder one of Bunt’s Instagram followers once said: ‘I just want to live in 

your pictures.’


If Bunt were to remove from this picture the old man, holding a mug of tea, and the dog sleeping at his feet, it would lose some of its charm. Man and dog have for some time now been a part of his signature style. Their presence activates the scene and triggers a sense of belonging. Their endearing relationship is touchingly conveyed in the painting You and Me, in which the old man, on a bench in front of a beach hut, looks out to sea, while the dog, seated beside him, looks fondly up at his master. Yet even in this relatively simple painting, Bunt’s itemised looking is busily at work, as the poem for this picture suggests: ‘Paws, feet, /Pebbles, Beach /The Sound of the Sea / Just you and me.’


When it appears in Bunt’s art, the sea is never a mere backdrop but always an active ingredient. It creates mood, as in Lobster, Mackerel and Cod. Here the sea is roughened by gentle but persistent waves. Its amorphous fluidity is offset by sudden intrusion of fixity, offered by stone walls and a sturdy stone-built house. This strong contrast is further heightened by the white mortice lines that wriggle their way around and between the stones. They catch the eye with the same insistence as is found in harbour scenes by Christopher Wood, who likewise placed a fierce emphasis on the materiality of things. This reminds us that although Bunt belongs to an outsider tradition, he has a cultivated knowledge of modern British art.


Another paradox in his art is that alongside his attraction to subjects associated with labour is a recurrent theme - the need to reflect. This is not surprising given that Bunt has twice been challenged by a life-threating illness; and just as his painting career had begun to enjoy success, he had to put it completely aside for two years. There are many instances in the history of art, notably Matisse, where a longish period of illness proved a turning point. In Bunt’s case, he remembers thinking back a great deal over his past, especially about his family life. Thoughts about his father appear to have developed his interest in the old-man figure, who, as time went on, was to become in addition a vehicle for his own character and concerns. But one childhood memory that he had during this isolated and difficult period was of his bedroom wallpaper, after a move to a new address. Against a white background and well spaced out, every four-legged animal under the sun marched across his bedroom walls. This, and the experience of simultaneously reading, as a child, C.S. Lewis’s Prince Caspian, charged his imagination.

When he was able to take up painting again, he wanted not to impress others but to express his own feelings and thoughts. After his illness and the treatments he had received, he adopted a naïve style, driven by the sheer joy of painting and the memory of his animal wallpaper. Looking at the results he noticed a new simplicity. As it developed, he realised that he was at last painting in his own style. 


The other noticeable thing was that he had more he wanted to say in paint. The poems he started making to accompany his paintings were at first only for his family. But this connection between word and image aided the communication of his thoughts and ideas and clarified the emotional temper of his pictures and his Christian leanings. His parents were believers but not churchgoers. Bunt, himself, dislikes much that the Church represents, yet he wept when he saw a collection of his paintings go on display in the Liverpool Anglican Cathedral. He has also devised his own private chapel, and, like the old man in Whatever Life Brings, who sits on the shore between groynes so as to ‘think about things/ Whatever life brings/ and spend some time with God’, Bunt too likes to sit in his chapel, to meditate and ‘just feel God’. Something of a Christian mystic, he has always liked religious art, but when telling the central tale of the New Testament, in Bert, His Dog, Our God, he did so in pictures and poems that are light-hearted and often humorous. 


Like many artists, Bunt frequently experiences doubt about this work, alternating between confidence and humility. ‘I’ve got things to say but it’s not about me,’ he says. And when asked why he has mostly cold-shouldered interviews, he simply explains, ‘I would sooner let the paintings do the work.’



Frances Spalding, CBE, FRSL 

Art historian, biographer and critic

COUNTRY LIFE

Portland Gallery, London

2020

Robin Cawdron-Stewart 

To stand before a painting by Gary Bunt is to be swept into a world of familiarity and nostalgia, for he is an artist that captures the British way of life like no other. Bunt’s world is one of timeless ease, recording quintessentially British pastimes with a warmth that brings joy to the soul. This fantastic selection of paintings, which marks the artist’s thirteenth exhibition with Portland Gallery, displays some of his most accomplished works to date. They are also some of his most identifiable, portraying the very British subject of a Country Life.



Bunt is no stranger to the countryside, and at his East Sussex home is surrounded by gently rolling hills studded with towering church steeples and populated with over inquisitive livestock that often find their way into many of his most beloved paintings. Drawing inspiration from his doorstep he creates a countryside that could be found in any remote corner of the British Isles, with a vernacular that brings together North and South, East and West. In these canvases we are met with the recognisable staples of any farmyard – the muddy forecourt, the cosy hayloft, the slowly trudging tractor or the meandering Morris Minor packed with a gaggle of geese. As a nation we have always been reliant on the countryside and guided by the changing seasons. These paintings chart this journey from the first snowdrops of spring to the cornfields of blazing gold that appear in late summer and from the planting of autumn seeds bringing promise for the cold months ahead through to the winding country roads blanketed in thick white snow. We are a nation proud of our farming history, and this rich heritage is celebrated in these paintings which offer the pictorial equivalent of settling down on a dark Sunday evening to watch Countryfile or One Man and His Dog.

These scenes also offer a new resonance now, following a year unlike any we have seen before. With so much change and uncertainty in the world now more than ever we look to what is important in our lives. For most of us this boils down to our families and our homes – be they in cities, towns, villages or hamlets up and down the country – and the importance of seeking out moments of joy and happiness, two sentiments that so clearly abound in anything that Bunt puts his paintbrush to. To look at these paintings we are reminded that life must and will go on, just as it has always done and always will. The seasons will turn; the chickens will still need feeding; the thatch re-thatching; the dog will always need his bath. In these times art may feel like a luxury, but it is the most essential of all luxuries. And in these paintings Bunt offers up a veritable feast to the eyes, producing scenes that set the heart alight and remind us of the importance of the simpler things in life.



Robin Cawdron Stewart 


INTRODUCTION

2017

Mervyn Davies, Lord Davies of Abersoch

Every now and then you see or hear something that just lifts your spirits. It could be a quotation. It might be an act of friendship. It might be a song that just hits the spot.


It might just be a painting.


When I first saw Gary’s work, I just fell in love with it.  You can imagine yourself on the hill, standing on the sea shore, looking out of the window towards the sea or driving downhill at great speed. Before we even talk about his poetry.


Some artists have that extraordinary ability to connect with the viewer. Gary has that.


I started collecting art at a very early age and even slept in sleeping bags outside a gallery to buy a watercolour of Kyffin Williams. At this stage, nobody had ever really heard of him, apart from all my friends in Wales. I just love his paintings. I feel exactly the same about Gary’s work.


Gary is able to combine fun with expertise and yet everybody wants to return to have another look.


Gary’s story is an extra ordinary one. Portland Gallery is lucky to have him, and he is lucky to have them.


I was bought up in North Wales and my father’s side, sea farers, and on my mother’s side, farmers. It seems that most of my family have features in his paintings. Uncles, aunts, women’s institute members, to name but a few. I am just waiting for that Welsh chapel painting. Please don’t bid for it!


I am Chairman of The Royal Academy Trust and have the privilege of meeting extraordinary talented artists and Gary is absolutely up there.




Mervyn Davies

Lord Davies of Abersoch 


INTRODUCTION

2012

Christopher Andreae

Gary Bunt’s paintings have a lot of laughter in them. They make people smile . . . and sometimes weep. His pictures can seem light-hearted and mischievous, and then suddenly you realise that they have a wry, underlying seriousness. They are about the comedy of human life, sometimes broad, sometimes subtle, but also life’s puzzles and mysteries, its challenge and sadness.

 

Take the painting called “How Now.” Many would immediately complete the title (trying to avoid Estuary vowels) with the words “Brown Cow.” But Gary is playing a game. This painting doesn’t have a single brown cow in sight, but instead three whole and two half Friesians, with large pink udders, grazing in a field; and Friesians, as even urban dwellers may (or may not) know, are black and white. 


Gary completes his paintings with short poems. They round off the questioning nature of many of his pictures by voicing the thoughts of his two favourite protagonists: an old man and his dog. In this case the man is seen from behind leaning on a 5-bar gate while the dog peers, at his level, through the lower bars. The poem on the reverse of this painting goes as follows: 


Life is not just black and white

Unlike a Friesian cow

A cloud, a tree, such mystery

It makes you wonder how


“Wondering” – or being awe-struck by wonder – permeates his art, making one look at the world we think we know, with fresh appreciation (and amusement). The old guy is sometimes his dad, sometimes prematurely aged, sometimes his own persona and sometimes some other character captured from his memory or imagination. He shows up as a pigeon fancier, or the Biblical sower who went forth to sow (by moonlight), or a bloke utterly miserable in the rain who’s just lost money on the dogs; or he might be an errant husband intimidated by his wife, or a steeple jack, or a gardener inspecting his runner beans, or a geezer heading for the pub to escape domestic constraints. 

Frequently, he and his dog are found gazing out to sea in rapt contemplation (though the dog doesn’t always quite get the point of this and, though ever faithful, would prefer to be comfortably chomping on his bone in front of the fire at home). 


At times the man muses alone, as in the painting called “Life,” in which he considers the implications of a goldfish endlessly circumnavigating his glassy home. 


Life is but a journey 

Full of ups and downs

Yours it seems so simple

It just goes round and round

The painting seems almost as simple as its message – yet it contains a hint of another aspect of this artist’s own remarkable “journey” into the world of art. On the wall is a Matisse, “Woman in Yellow and Blue with a Guitar.” Its presence in this not-so-likely context is very possibly an acknowledgment that Gary knows he is not the first artist to have been fascinated by goldfish in goldfish bowls. 


The phrase “self-taught” (more suitable in his case surely than “naïve” or “primitive”) needs modification. He has not been taught, at art school or elsewhere, but he has delved in the spirit of eager learning into his large collection of art books. He doesn’t hide this. He openly admits his admiration for a wide range of artists, either by reference to them or actually by painting them into his own paintings. This is a matter of tribute, not larceny or plagiarism. After all, the art world is a territory in which anyone can freely roam. And, as he acknowledges in the title of another painting (with thanks to John Donne and Thomas Merton), “No Man is an Island”.



Christopher Andreae 2012

Author who has written books on Mary Newcomb, Mary Fedden and Winifred Nicholson. 


INTRODUCTION

2008

Tom Hewlett

A short and straightforward hand written note accompanied the catalogues which arrived at Portland Gallery a couple of years ago. ‘I wonder whether you might be interested in my work; I would be grateful for any comments’. Gary Bunt. There was no elaborate c.v.; there were no claims of previous sell-out shows and no promise of existing clients who would follow him to our gallery. It was a delightfully simple question; did we like and understand the work enough to discuss it further with the artist? The catalogues sat on my desk for a week and I found myself looking at them, putting them down, and then being impelled to look again. The more I looked the more interested I became; I showed the images to colleagues and the reaction was the same so I phoned Gary to invite him to bring some work with him and to come and talk to all of us about it.


That first encounter was one of the most extraordinary dealer/artist meetings which I have attended. A stick thin bundle of nervous energy arrived with paintings under his arm and a bag (which I later discovered contained box drinks – his only food) over his shoulder. He put the paintings down, we all looked at them; no-one said anything. I looked at them again, relating the poems to the images and was about to ask some questions when Gary could bear the silence no longer; he just couldn’t stop himself and we all sat in awe listening to as passionate, lucid and personal explanation of an artist’s raison d’etre as I had ever heard. Over the course of that hour we were treated to some brutally honest self criticism, some medical details which I was surprised to hear from someone I had just met, and an artistic vision of unusual clarity. Here was someone who had obviously ‘been through the mill’ yet had come out of the maelstrom with a clearly defined and very individual artistic sense of purpose.

That wonderfully personal ‘take’ on life and the ability to make it happen in paint is a rare gift and it was evident that we were talking to someone who had it ‘in spades’. By the end of that morning we had offered to represent Gary exclusively and he had accepted. A visit to his studio shortly afterwards only served to reinforce that initial excitement and enthusiasm. That was the relatively easy part; now we had to see whether our faith would be shared by the clients and friends on whom this business depends. Trying to explain the work before showing it was clearly not going to work; far better to suggest that there was work by a new artist that ‘might be of interest’ and then wait for the reaction. Within a few weeks we had to ration the work as most of the early viewers were not satisfied with only one Bunt and matters have snowballed from there.


So what is the appeal in a Bunt painting? At first glance, thoughts of a quirky Lowry or Lowndes come to mind; look a little closer or for a few seconds longer and one realises that there is far more to it. Technically the work is very good. Turn it round and look at the poem on the back and relate it to the painting on the other side and the whole thing falls into place. Without knowing how or why, it has become personal to you. There is that narrative element of a shared or imaginary experience which raises a smile or touches an emotional chord. 


The burgeoning interest in Gary’s work seems to have had little effect on him. Kindness, humour, modesty and understatement remain key traits of his personality (witness his CV). His two bouts of cancer have made him all too aware of his own mortality and perhaps this is why there is an urgency to make into paintings the torrent of ideas which cascade daily through his creative mind. Clearly no moment can be lost in allowing us to share in the wonderfully quirky and particular world that is Gary Bunt’s. 


Tom Hewlett

Founder of Portland Gallery


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