Ars Longa Vita Brevis

I’ve always made a bit of an effort to try to appreciate cultural zones that don’t initially appeal. I check out the odd classical, folk and jazz concert, though I draw the line at country music. I have walked out of the musical, Cats [through boredom], abandoned Philip Glass [I made it to the interval and went for a stroll, instead] and even Bob Dylan [I went to the bar]. I couldn’t recognise some of the songs that I thought I knew. 

The same is true in literature. In my quest for life-long learning, I tried Charles Dickens again and Charlotte Bronte but soon retreated to Sue Townsend and Bill Bryson. And then there is art. I’m happy with Lowry and Grayson Perry, OK with Turner and David Hockney, but I’m baffled by Mondrian and Jackson Pollock. I find Dali depressing and Picasso unappealing. I promise that I still try, although often it just doesn’t happen.

Yet, I have marvelled at the centuries old Garden of Earthly Delights by Hieronymous Bosch at the Prado in Madrid, stared into the eyes of Van Gogh’s self-portrait at the National Gallery of Art in Washington DC and queued in the Hermitage in St Petersburg, to be astounded by the clarity of Da Vinci’s Madonna Litta.

All of which leads me - and by no means feeling comfortably in charge - to the subject of railway art. Time was, I could have named all the railway artists I knew on the fingers of one hand – Cuneo, Shepherd, Welch, Hamilton-Ellis, er…. I might actually have been struggling for a little finger example.

I was first attracted to 1930s and 1960s railway advertising posters. I moved on to collect original carriage prints and from there to the commercial copies of paintings by the leading railway artists. More recently, I bought my first original oil painting.

We visit friends who have an artistic background. Their home is a dynamic treasure trove of their eclectic choice of art work, including some wonderful quad royal railway posters, carefully selected prints and an impressive array of originals.

I felt sufficiently stimulated to join in. You really do put your money where your mouth is, or perhaps, more accurately, where your eyes are. So what makes a good railway painting? Is it authenticity, as represented by mechanical accuracy, the sensitive interpretation of light through colour or simply the application of imagination? Is it largely a matter of perspective or is it an overall impression - the ability to conjure up a particular ambience - that is most important?

Help is at hand, however. Within the Guild of Railway Artists, the relative merits of contributors are judged by their fellows, those who are already renowned for work of quality. They have their own distinctive hierarchy - elite fellows, full members, associate members and the friends group, which takes the total membership above 300, though it has to be said that there are also fine railway artists who do not appear to be connected to the guild at all.

As I look more carefully I can see why the top names are where they are. It is easy to see how the quality of their work has earned them their status. Factual accuracy and attention to detail are clear prerequisites. I have seen pictures for sale at railway events and elsewhere, where one glance tells you that the artist has just not got it right. I think I know what the various classes of steam locomotive look like from every conceivable angle, so I recognise almost instinctively if a representation of them is “out” in any way. It grates. It almost hurts to look at it. All the big names get these things right.

The best railway artists recreate a moment in time. The locomotive is in an appropriate setting and the context is likely to be significant and equally well produced. The figures who inhabit the scene can be important ingredients in recreating the atmosphere. There are still plenty of opportunities for personal interpretation. Paintings do not have to look like photographs to be effective, though proficient photographers use changing weather and lighting conditions to their advantage in the same way.

I’m hoping to add to my collection of originals. I shall be on the look-out for unusual angles and imaginative compositions to add to the traditional, three-quarter side-on locomotive portrait so expertly represented here by Barry Price.

[With thanks to Barry Price for giving me permission to use photos of his painting for this purpose, and also to Tim Petchey, editor at the Railway Antiques Gazette, where a lengthier form of this article first appeared.]