Reflections from therapy

‘Painting is an attempt to come to terms with life’ wrote the 20C American artist George Tooker. Picasso once described it as being ‘just another way of keeping a diary’. For the last two years I have been working with a psychotherapist in an attempt to make sense of my life and put the pieces of the puzzle together. Reflecting on what is revealed or unveiled by the ‘diary’ of my paintings has been an important part of that process. As we have worked together exploring the life experiences and assumptions that have shaped my way of being in the world, I have noticed things beginning to shift and fall into place.

Meeting Andras Kalman

A chance encounter with art dealer and collector Andras Kalman in June 1990 proved to be a pivotal moment in my life. This is the story of that meeting, and an expression of my appreciation for the unfailing support and encouragement that Andras showed me over the 17 years that I knew him.

Painting the Aurora

Landscape, abstraction, colour and light have long been the dominant themes of my painting. Inspired by the countryside around our Somerset home, by visits to the Lake District and Scotland and dreams of places further afield, I have sought to evoke the world of nature, of hills, mountains, water, skies, trees, and above all, light. Over time these ‘abstracted landscapes’ slowly became more simplified - increasingly pure celebrations of colour and light, and as they did so I found myself being drawn to the empty landscapes of the North and to the Arctic. Then the strange and mesmerizing phenomenon of the Aurora Borealis, or Northern Lights, crept into my consciousness and dreams

The Seen and the Unseen

One of the great pleasures of my life is the daily short, slow walks I take down the lanes and through the fields and woods that surround our Somerset home. It is astonishing what wonders can be seen if one takes the time to look. I try to keep my eyes open to the gifts waiting to be received: reflections in the pond in the old orchard, birds flitting down the hedgerows, the first star appearing above the hill, the cycle of the seasons and the ever-changing light. What I do in the studio is a response to what I have seen on these walks

Imola Antal Mavity: Landcapes of the Mind

The paintings of Nicholas Jones quite unmistakably depict landscape, his work continuing the great English tradition of the genre. However, whilst oil is applied to his canvases with the diligence of the masters, the viewpoint of the artist’s eye has entirely changed. Reminiscent of Turner’s passionate interpretations of nature described by his critics as mere fantasies in “soapsuds and whitewash”, Jones’ paintings preserve the highly personal and abstracted quality of what – in the case of both painters (yet on different levels) – could be defined as ‘landscapes of the mind’

Nicholas Jones: Abstract Landscapes

The artist’s lot is not as enviable as it might seem. Whether you date modernism back to the Impressionists in the late 19th century, to Kandinsky’s abstractions in the early 20th century, or to Duchamp’s appropriation of everyday objects around the 1920’s, today’s artist faces a daunting range of achievement in just about every conceivable medium and mode. How can he/she hope to say something new, worthwhile and individual? Many seek to answer this challenge by using the new audio-visual technologies, often very ingeniously. But is the result art as we know it?

Nicholas Jones: Paintings 1990-91

Nicholas Jones’ degree show paintings at Bristol Polytechnic in 1987 revealed a deep appreciation of Samuel Palmer and a concern for luminosity. That luminosity was obviously reflected in his interest in stained glass, and for two and a half years after college, Nick worked almost exclusively in that medium with considerable success. But in February 1990 he returned to painting, and this exhibition gives us a rare and fascinating opportunity to watch a painter, in the course of just twelve months, discovering his own artistic identity ..