James Palmer
Jim Palmer
I am in the seventh decade of an overwhelming passion for art. I started copying things when I was in grade school. Was considered a prodigy. Went into an odd place for a kid: Italian Renaissance. Michelangelo. Then, Praxiteles. But moved through various stages. In my teens, Marc Chagall held me in thrall. Rembrandt hit me with a book I read in my twenties. In university in Montreal my studio art course was a disaster. I had no idea what I was doing. Passed, but learned nothing. After military I tried to find the Impressionists in Europe, and discovered Hippie culture instead. In Greece, a girl artist showed me how sunlight is essential to ideals. Later, when Communism fell and revealed 19th century Russian art, I was again in a dream.
All this time, I was devouring museums. Los Angeles, New York (Met, Modern, Frick, Barrio, etc.); Paris (Louvre; Picasso; Moderne; Jeu de Paume; Musee d’Orsay). Also, by chance, Hanoi.
And: reading. In a mere 30 or 40 years, I have resolved the essential issues of art, from the Greeks all the way through to recent works by James Palmer. Classical elements of composition, tension, balance, contrast, atmosphere, lighting, mood, form, flow. The essence of vital human harmony. I will not be contradicted. Every artist is an activist. I am a Humanist Classical Academy Painter and Draftsperson. I am easy to get along with, and very modest.
I take it back about not being contradicted. I love to argue.
I hope you like my work. Some of it I do like OK. A lot, not so much! One’s best painting is always the next one.
West from Coutts Garden
Southwest of Weatherfield
JP McCowall's Quarter