Michael Reynolds
Michael Reynolds
1933 - 2008
Obituary, The Guardian, 9 May 2008
Michael Reynolds, who has died from cancer in Holland aged 74, was one of the most naturally gifted painters of his generation, with a full, confident command of whichever medium he chose to work in. His lifelong commitment was to the representation of the real and visible world, directly observed. He brought to his landscape painting a great scope and sense of the dramatic, yet moderated always by close, thoughtful scrutiny, and a wonderful subtlety of surface and delicacy in the handling. A brilliant draughtsman, he was no less distinguished in his work with the figure, building up over the years a deserved reputation as a master of the contemporary portrait.
In a more rational and generous age, Reynolds would doubtless have become a prominent member of the Royal Academy, and indeed he regularly showed in the annual summer exhibition. But his misfortunes were to a degree much of his own making. His temperament hardly helped, for he was a difficult man, irascible, combative and, when fired by alcohol, as for many years he often was, capable of being formidably offensive. To then set himself, almost Alfred Munnings-like in his principles and polemic, against the temper of the times, helped even less.
Steeped in the work of the masters, from Velázquez to Manet and Degas, Sickert, Bonnard and Vuillard, he had little sympathy with any later modernist developments, least of all abstraction, and what he saw, not entirely without reason, as the fatuities of conceptualism would reduce him to spluttering rage. Its critical success, institutional support and cynical commercial exploitation brought him close to despair.
In 1989, along with the no less outspoken critic Brian Sewell, he set up The Discerning Eye, which has since become one of the most popular of the annual open-submission exhibitions. His was the basic idea: the work to be selected by a mixed panel of critics, artists and collectors, two of each, but none of whom could then enjoy the protection of a collective decision. Each made a choice from the work submitted, and had then to stand openly by it, shown en bloc in the actual exhibition.
With individual taste and judgment there for all the world to see, for good or bad, it was both a refreshing innovation, and a statement of principle. But, successful as it proved to be, in 1996 Reynolds washed his hands of the whole thing, frustrated at being unable to countermand any panellist's particular choice, as the occasional abstract or experimental work crept in, yet seeing such variance from his own view as a betrayal of the spirit of the exercise.
Brought up in Brighton, Reynolds studied at Varndean grammar school and at the Brighton College of Art (1951-56). After some intermittent teaching in art schools, and various jobs and commissions, in 1962 he won the engraving scholarship to the British School at Rome, where he stayed for two years. For a while around 1970 he also ran a wine shop in Norfolk. He seems never really to have settled down.
Some eight years ago, he lost patience with the British art world altogether, taking himself into exile, split between Italy and Holland - the winters in Perugia, the summers in Groningen. Diagnosed with cancer in 2004, the fine care he received in Groningen gave him the security and comfort for a last flourishing of his work, which produced, in particular, a remarkable series of nudes. There is also no less remarkable a series of self-portraits.
For all his waywardness and unpredictability, his talent won him the admiration of his peers, his principles their respect and, in his support and encouragement of work he admired, indeed their affection. Above all, whether in sympathy or disagreement with him, you knew he was prepared to set his standards and stand by them. He could never accept the fashionable nostrum that the mere idea or proposal could be enough, and that the resolution of the work could be left to itself. He despised all relativist judgment, knowing full well, that, even with the best of intentions, a work of art can be badly done, unsuccessful, even downright awful. He stood, above all, for the technical and formal disciplines without which he believed a work of art could never be properly achieved, or indeed make sense.
Besides the Royal Academy, he was a regular exhibitor with the other exhibiting societies, in particular the Royal Society of British Artists, and he was, for more than 30 years, a leading member of the Royal Society of Portrait Painters. He is represented in many important collections and galleries, both private and public, notably the National Portrait Gallery and the Royal Collection.
His wife predeceased him, and he is survived by his four daughters.
· Michael Reynolds, painter, born August 30 1933; died April 26 2008
Michael Reynolds, who has died from cancer in Holland aged 74, was one of the most naturally gifted painters of his generation, with a full, confident command of whichever medium he chose to work in. His lifelong commitment was to the representation of the real and visible world, directly observed. He brought to his landscape painting a great scope and sense of the dramatic, yet moderated always by close, thoughtful scrutiny, and a wonderful subtlety of surface and delicacy in the handling. A brilliant draughtsman, he was no less distinguished in his work with the figure, building up over the years a deserved reputation as a master of the contemporary portrait.
In a more rational and generous age, Reynolds would doubtless have become a prominent member of the Royal Academy, and indeed he regularly showed in the annual summer exhibition. But his misfortunes were to a degree much of his own making. His temperament hardly helped, for he was a difficult man, irascible, combative and, when fired by alcohol, as for many years he often was, capable of being formidably offensive. To then set himself, almost Alfred Munnings-like in his principles and polemic, against the temper of the times, helped even less.
Steeped in the work of the masters, from Velázquez to Manet and Degas, Sickert, Bonnard and Vuillard, he had little sympathy with any later modernist developments, least of all abstraction, and what he saw, not entirely without reason, as the fatuities of conceptualism would reduce him to spluttering rage. Its critical success, institutional support and cynical commercial exploitation brought him close to despair.
In 1989, along with the no less outspoken critic Brian Sewell, he set up The Discerning Eye, which has since become one of the most popular of the annual open-submission exhibitions. His was the basic idea: the work to be selected by a mixed panel of critics, artists and collectors, two of each, but none of whom could then enjoy the protection of a collective decision. Each made a choice from the work submitted, and had then to stand openly by it, shown en bloc in the actual exhibition.
With individual taste and judgment there for all the world to see, for good or bad, it was both a refreshing innovation, and a statement of principle. But, successful as it proved to be, in 1996 Reynolds washed his hands of the whole thing, frustrated at being unable to countermand any panellist's particular choice, as the occasional abstract or experimental work crept in, yet seeing such variance from his own view as a betrayal of the spirit of the exercise.
Brought up in Brighton, Reynolds studied at Varndean grammar school and at the Brighton College of Art (1951-56). After some intermittent teaching in art schools, and various jobs and commissions, in 1962 he won the engraving scholarship to the British School at Rome, where he stayed for two years. For a while around 1970 he also ran a wine shop in Norfolk. He seems never really to have settled down.
Some eight years ago, he lost patience with the British art world altogether, taking himself into exile, split between Italy and Holland - the winters in Perugia, the summers in Groningen. Diagnosed with cancer in 2004, the fine care he received in Groningen gave him the security and comfort for a last flourishing of his work, which produced, in particular, a remarkable series of nudes. There is also no less remarkable a series of self-portraits.
For all his waywardness and unpredictability, his talent won him the admiration of his peers, his principles their respect and, in his support and encouragement of work he admired, indeed their affection. Above all, whether in sympathy or disagreement with him, you knew he was prepared to set his standards and stand by them. He could never accept the fashionable nostrum that the mere idea or proposal could be enough, and that the resolution of the work could be left to itself. He despised all relativist judgment, knowing full well, that, even with the best of intentions, a work of art can be badly done, unsuccessful, even downright awful. He stood, above all, for the technical and formal disciplines without which he believed a work of art could never be properly achieved, or indeed make sense.
Besides the Royal Academy, he was a regular exhibitor with the other exhibiting societies, in particular the Royal Society of British Artists, and he was, for more than 30 years, a leading member of the Royal Society of Portrait Painters. He is represented in many important collections and galleries, both private and public, notably the National Portrait Gallery and the Royal Collection.
His wife predeceased him, and he is survived by his four daughters.
· Michael Reynolds, painter, born August 30 1933; died April 26 2008