THE UPS & THE (OCCASIONAL) DOWNS OF LIFE IN THE ART WORLD by GARY HODGES
- 4 days ago
- 11 min read
The first words in my autobiography were "I am a very lucky man." I felt it was true when I wrote them in 2014 and I still believe it today.
Loyalty has been key too. Yours and mine. Some of you reading this have been collecting my art since the late 1980s various early Greenpeace prints (including ‘Green Turtle’). That warms my heart no end.
Now let me take you back in time, to the unbelievable origin story of my career. Encouraged by the popularity of those Greenpeace editions and emotionally charged to succeed in memory of my recently deceased dad, I became a full-time bona fide artist as the bells chimed, celebrating the arrival of 1989.* It was a scary leap into the unknown, but I had aforementioned Lady Luck on my side. Almost immediately my career skyrocketed to places I couldn't have imagined possible; exhibiting at iconic UK venues like the Natural History Museum, Nature in Art Museum and Mall Galleries. Abroad too, in Paris, Nairobi and Caracas. And all that, and much more, happened in the first two years.
Over the past four decades I have collaborated with many brilliant people in the conservation movement, individuals with incredible hearts and positive attitudes. I'm so happy that my life led me in such a positive direction, securing a solid link between my artistic talent and the conservation of animals and wild spaces.
I've travelled the globe with my soulmate Dave, in search of the wildlife we both love with unbridled passion. We take it as a huge privilege and every trip brings us immense joy and knowledge.
That's all fantastic stuff, but you know, my career really shouldn't have worked. In 1989, the odds were stacked against me. The pencil was absolutely looked down on as the poor relative of the paintbrush and monochrome art wasn't deemed commercial. Being admired but ultimately rejected by three book companies and then eight fine art publishers proved that point. **
Deflated but not defeated, I decided to take on the financial risk and self-publish my drawings. Fortunately you, the art buying public, reacted favourably and within a few years, my art was outselling practically every other fine art print around. I won three top industry awards to that effect, one was even dubbed 'the Oscars of the art world'. With those under my belt, I joined the 'Trinity' alongside David Shepherd and Jack Vettriano.*** Those two giants were the only other artists to be awarded the same three accolades. How mad is that? There was I, a self-taught, self-published, with little self-confidence, artist from your typical working class background. My family had no connections to the art world; my dad was a fishmonger and my mum a secretary. Oh and another rather significant point, when I 'burst on the scene' in 1989, the UK was smack dab in the middle of a financial recession.
On reflection, it was just as well you warmed to my pencil drawings as I didn't possess any great talents with the paintbrush. Any artworks I tried using paint looked harsh and didn't excite me as much as creating pictures in many shades of grey. My eyes have gradually learned to see and discern the incredible subtleties of endless tones, and I'm so pleased I stuck with pencils!
It hasn't all been a bed of roses though, but no complaints and no regrets from me. But now I'll write about a few of those not so brilliant times to give you an insight into the life an artist inhabits.
After leaving school in 1971, up until '89, I had worked alongside other people; seven years at printing firms hunched over a light box, using the grand title 'negative assembler', seven years on adventure playgrounds working with children, digging holes and building colourful, elaborate wooden structures for them to play on. And then brief moments as a technical illustrator, in a laundry factory and as a shop assistant at WH Smiths. The last one was the most exhausting... three intense hours a day serving sweets and cigarettes at the busy London Farringdon train station! That's quite a mixed mosaic of jobs, don't you think?
Then I found my true calling in life, my 'IIkigai'. My love of drawing and animals both stemmed from childhood and continued into my teens. Drawing was a joyful relaxing hobby, but readjusting to a full-time artistic lifestyle proved problematic. It was a solitary existence, and I craved human interaction and the warmth of the human voice.
At that time, the Environmental Investigation Agency had been in existence for five years and Dave was their co-founder, Executive Director, lead undercover investigator and the main media person for TV appearances too. He was on countless times (Newsnight, Blue Peter, BBC & ITV News, ITV's Animal Detectives a six part prime-time series, etc) so he was away from home much of the time, with his mind, body and soul immersed in work. Fortunately in 1988, I'd reconnected with Paul Delapenha, who swiftly became my dual best friend, and he was a lifeline, offering incredible friendship, laughter and glimpses into the sparkling world of showbiz. Dressed up to the nines, we dined with members of the Supremes, watched them as they recorded new songs in the studio, met the ultra-glamorous and talented Freda Payne at the Jazz Cafe, and went to countless other concerts too.
Through Paul, I even made an appearance on Jamaican morning TV. Paul's dad Lindy was a seasoned presenter, and he interviewed me about my career. Lindy was brilliant; I wasn't! Incidentally, in his earlier days, Lindy was the first Jamaican to play professional football in the UK, with 12 years service at Middlesbrough, Portsmouth and Mansfield Town clubs before moving back to his homeland with Joan, his Middlesbrough born and bred wife.
Another factor to deal with was a hugely fluctuating salary. Fortunately, at my core I don't idolise money; that helped. My salary changed from week to week and over the years, flitted wildly, rising up around the awards time only to then plummet drastically when the world recession happened in 2007.
The first mad explosion of cash coincided with Paul's health deteriorating and eventually him dying so I simply wasn't in the right mindset to enjoy the fruits of my labour. That finally happened four years later when Dave and I relocated to the peaceful, evergreen hills of Ibiza. We lived there for 19 blissful years in a villa with a gorgeous terraced garden complete with two ponds that many frogs, terrapins, dragonflies and fish called their home. Bee-eaters circled above, lizards sunbathed on the paved steps, and we even had occasional visits from a night heron, a kingfisher, a little bittern and a sparrow hawk. It was a perfect setting for us and many friends stayed to relax and party with us. Paul would have loved it.
We returned to the UK at the end of 2018 and are both very content here in a relatively modest abode in Hove, surrounded by the hustle bustle of people, cafes, restaurants and shops, and just a five minute stroll down the road, we have the calm of the coastline. Our garden is less than a 20th of the size of our previous one, but a huge eucalyptus tree practically fills the space and wood pigeons, ring necked doves and a grey squirrel live there. A fox visits regularly as do robins, wrens and various other birds. We do miss our Ibiza friends and of course, the warmer, sunnier climate, but take a short holiday each year to reconnect.
Grief is a chilling emotion that can hide and resurface to surprise you. Paul's death affected me so deeply and it also brought back my mum's memories to the forefront of my brain. When she died in 1971, I was 15 but even younger mentally and couldn't deal with such loss. I subconsciously buried her memory away from any sad conscious thoughts. It had 'worked' for many years, but with these bereavements to deal with in 1997, I didn't feel like doing much of anything, least of all, drawing.
I was riding the crest of a wave professionally but felt an ocean of sadness inside. Almost 300 galleries and framing shops throughout the UK eagerly anticipated each new print release. For years they had put much effort into promoting my art so I had a huge responsibility to them to continue creating. I tried my best, but the build up of stress levels in my body together with the signing, numbering and sending out of countless prints manifested itself as RSI (repetitive strain injury). On doctor's orders, I rested my drawing arm for many months. It was good advice, as the physical problem gradually healed. Then simple acts like brushing my teeth became possible again without a sickening wave of pain.
I still had a dark cloud surrounding me and It became obvious that I needed to delve deeper and try to deal with the emotional grief that still had a tight grip on my heart. An intense weekend retreat broke down many barriers and made me more open and relaxed. It wasn't that simple, but I had started to open the floodgates. I continue to try and learn from life's lessons.
My pace of life is very different now. I accept my editions, that once rose to the glittering heights of 1,950 copies and were fully allocated before publication, now serve a far smaller (very discerning) audience, selling between 95 and 250 copies. The whole art market has changed dramatically, with thousands of talented artists now able to make their mark on the world through print on demand, superb quality Giclee prints.
The extraordinary secondary market of my prints shifted too. Most of the shops who had actively promoted my art for 10 to 15 years had either reached retirement, gone bankrupt or in some cases, simply moved over to promote other artists. At the same time I had found it more difficult to start a drawing from scratch.
In 2015 a happy experiment worked when I began hand embellishing a few of my prints for charity. I must add, these embellishments of mine aren't just a short flurry of pencil marks taking a few minutes, but I devote time and work carefully across the whole drawing for a day or two, and sometimes more, to create something richer and quite different from the original print. I often add new details that weren't even there before, especially in shadowed areas, or darken shaded backgrounds to greater effect, especially on polar bears.
Each print becomes unique and has even more of 'me' stamped on them. My embellished prints have enabled me to continue to donate my art to many charities.
Then a few months ago, I had another lightbulb moment and thought let's explore further still. I added a completely new drawing to a print; a flying oxpecker to the popular 1992 'Masaai Giraffe with Oxpecker' print. It sold 100% in aid of Born Free for a record breaking £11,000!! Now I have six tiers to my portfolio to suit most wallets from £15 to £20,000; books, open edition prints, limited edition prints, hand embellished prints, hand embellished prints incorporating an original drawing and finally, the extremely rare original drawings.
I'm grateful that you have once again supported my endeavours and to date have bought over 300 of these embellished prints that have sold for big money and helped various conservation groups. Have I been a trend setter? I don't know but I love that many other artists have started embellishing their prints for charity too.
My focus, now super sharpened with glasses, has become even more aimed at conservation, regularly supporting charities. I feel proud to use the term, 'conservation artist'. I can't imagine not being supportive to people whose life's work is protecting animals and our environment.
I try to embrace the phrase "Grant me the serenity to accept the things we cannot change, the courage to change the things we can, and the wisdom to know the difference." Perhaps I came to it rather late in the day. It was a sign I saw on the wall of The Barge pub in Wiltshire around the late 1990s. Now, realistically, I know what I do for wildlife, together with your help, is but a droplet in the ocean, but we are at least doing something positive and I'll continue as long as your valued support remains.
Nearly done, but now let's address the massive elephant in the room.... my lack of brand new drawings. Earlier in my life I possessed patience close to overflowing. It helped when I worked with children and of course has been imperative with drawing. The genre of art I created was 'easy' for me as long as I just let it take its time to evolve.
At 71, I no longer feel I have that precious time to devote to brand new drawings.... but never say never. And that brings me smoothly onto one of the most common questions I get asked, "How long do your drawings take". I'm happy to answer and understand why people ask but it's been really irrelevant to me.
Although I've loved meeting people who've bought my art, I'm not at all comfortable or confident talking to new people... I often get tongue tied or stutter. But it's something I've pushed myself to do countless times at private views and at Nature in Art, the museum where I've been an artist in residence over 21 times.
Anyone who's close to me, knows that despite my love of bright clothes, I don't relish being the centre of attention. Staging a private view evening at Mall Galleries with over 600 people was one of the most brilliant but scary nights of my life. I had moments when I thought I was going to pass out!
With my two new releases, 'Sentinel of the Savannah' and 'Delicate', both have new drawing contained in them, so I haven't retired completely from drawing and I'm keeping out of mischief with embellishing.
Another perspective is to bring up the word discipline. I also needed that ingredient to create my drawings. And I began to lose that too many years ago. Working from home, many times our tantalising TV tempted me to remain fast on the sofa rather than travel the 100 metres to my studio, or simply listening intently to music through headphones. I have thousands of CDs.
I performed a fine balancing act between the talent I had and my patience, discipline and joy. I believe some of the joy slipped away first. That can be a huge negative when your part time hobby becomes your full time job.
Over seven decades have now passed, I feel my main motivation these days is to raise money for wildlife charities. I'm so happy that because of my track record, I'm one of a handful of 'go to' artists for guaranteed success in auctions and grand balls... thanks of course to you. This year, I'll be embellishing quite a few prints of the appropriate animals for Helping Rhinos, Remembering Giraffes, Sketch For Survival and David Shepherd Wildlife Foundation among others.
I will also be updating one or two older drawings to publish as limited editions. This will enable Dave and I to continue experiencing the wonders of the natural world while we're still fit and active. These drawings will include 'Gemsbok', and who knows, I may even draw something completely new.
Well that's all for now. I hope this has given you a different insight to my life, one filled with a lot of luck and a whole range of pencils.
FOOTNOTES
I didn't add these above as I felt they would hinder the flow.
* As you may know, I made an attempt at an art career in 1980 that lasted for a little over a year. I had lots of little successes like having 8 of my drawings in (BBC) Wildlife magazine, having my art used by WWF for articles in many local newspapers and a couple of group exhibitions in Chelsea and Hampstead, but I wasn't making enough money so it fizzled out. I also don't think I was mature or savvy enough then. Seven years on, I learned from my previous mistakes when I prepared and then 'launched' my career in 1989.
** Before I became self-employed, I set a number of things up in preparation. I started a year earlier when I visited a huge art trade fair in Birmingham, complete with my expanding portfolio. By doing that, I stepped completely out of my comfort zone, tentatively talking to strangers about my art. I showed my drawings to about 12 large and small fine art publishers... all gave me their precious time to look through them with great interest, especially with the Greenpeace drawings, but to no avail. I also spent time drawing and preparing for a solo exhibition in Paris that happened soon after 1989 began. It was 50% in aid of French conservation charity 'Robin Des Bois' (Robin Hood in English).
*** Incidentally, like myself, neither David Shepherd nor Jack Vettriano had formal art training. And all three of us were/are liked by the art buying public but generally not favoured by art critics. The same goes for another artist who was hugely popular and embraced by the public, Beryl Cook. In 1994, she received the Best-Selling Published Artist Award from the Fine Art Trade Guild... I won that same award 3 years later.
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