In the Beginning...

Early scribbles

I was always the quiet kid, the kid on her own, with her head down, scribbling on whatever surface was available, be it the back of promotional butter leaflets (my Dad was a milk man and this type of paraphernalia was commonplace in our kitchen), an envelope, or reams of green printed continuous feed printer paper snaffled from the local solicitors office where my Mum worked as a typist. The scribbling was consistent and prolific.



My very first rock'n'roll creative hero was, perhaps, the most famous polymath of them all, Leonardo Da Vinci. My Dad taught me at a very early age that anything anyone could ever want to know would be in a book and introduced me to the local library as soon as I was old enough to qualify for a set of tickets and I wasted no time in choosing an art book alongside my Pippi Longstockings.  I was amazed that here was a man who could draw as accurately as a photograph with beautiful pencil lines instead of a camera, and more impressively still, he could draw horses.  The next few years saw horses, ponies and foals of all shapes and sizes galloping across my sketchbooks.

Leonardo Da Vinci Horse sketch

My imitation Da Vinci

My Aunt lived in London and a special treat would be to go and stay in her sprawling Hampstead house and be taken and be taken on museum visits by Tube.  We visited the National Gallery and studied famous works with insects hidden among the subject matter - the 1970s equivalent of todays mini-beast trend. There was a competition for children to create a character to be displayed at the National Gallery which I entered.  I created the Mischief Muncher and mailed it off a day before the competition closed. I won first prize for my age category and waited for weeks for my prize, a giant Reeve's painting set, to arrive.

Mischief Muncher, bottom left.

  My childhood was an incredibly rich time for visual imagery - it was everywhere. David McKee's colourful illustrations for the Mr. Benn animations, the legacy of psychedelia on packaging, books and album covers and the wonderful Tony Hart on our televisions, showing us how to make proper art out of anything from sand to old bottle tops. I was encouraged in my artistic endeavours and allowed to paint, large scale, all over my bedroom wall.  It is evident looking at the photographs that my style has not changed so very much from those early days. So, how did I get from there to here? Well that's a long story.  Get yourself a cup of coffee, pull up a comfortable chair and I'll tell you all about it in the next blog...

Style progression - or not?

H. x

Childhood indulgence

Tony Hart

David McKee Mr. Benn