Gary Bunt British , 1957-2025
The Man Who Found God
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 interaction 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; 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 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.”
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 interaction 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; 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 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.”
Edition of 10
