Artist of the Month : James McNaught
by a collector
I first became aware of James McNaught’s work at an exhibition at the Portal, some years ago. We know France a little, so were
particularly drawn to the pictures. On display were gouaches on paper executed in his unique style, mostly with a small French
town narrative, but inhabited by ripe women with big thrusty arses, and a general feel of decay to the scenes. I remember an
abandoned stilletto shoe in the foreground of one of them.
In the end, we just had to have one. It was, in comparison with some of the others at the exhibition, lighter and more frivolous. A
typical wedge shaped French corner house, an arse hanging out of the window, tram tracks, broken down-pipes, coiling useless
electrical wires overhead, and an almost-heard hum from the electric street light. … atmosphere, uniqueness and a kind of seediness.
But also a twist, a quirky feel. The colour of the walls was dirty sand, and there was yellowish light in the window behind the arse lady.
' Off the Rails ' gouache 2003 'Girl on the Rue Quinquinpoix' gouache 2006
'She decided to stay' 30 x 72 cms gouache & watercolour 2011
At the next exhibition we went to, we were determined not to buy any more. However, it was again a ‘must have’ situation. The second McNaught we had to have was much more bleak than the first. At least the first had a kind of naughty invitation, like a
ragged roguish wink. But this painting is utterly desolate. A kind of abandon, dark, dank, with deep grey blues and shadows. The
Hotel Midi is the main focus. All the houses along the street are grey and rundown; the restaurant has grubby white nets, of which
one is drawn back a little to reveal a half glimpsed face, peering out, rank with suspicion. The door to the restaurant is uninvitingly
open.
It is hard to imagine why. Perhaps it was left open. It is certainly not an enticement. Perhaps someone has left? The word ‘Hotel’,
painted on the wall at the side is eroded by time and weather. On the deserted street, there are discarded papers blowing about.
In the sky, two separate clumps of dark birds circle.
There are the trailing wires we have seen before in McNaught’s work, his usual cracked plaster, & cracked, uneven paving stones.
But the sky is a dark mushroom browny grey, and the atmosphere is one of desolation. The only figure seen, the streetwalker, is
not a roguish arse at a lighted window. She stands upright, dark and alone in the shadow, arms flat by her sides, grey, nobody
around. Right at the side of the picture. Utterly uninviting. There’s a really nasty flight of well worn stairs leading up into the darkness
of the hotel at the corner that look particularly scary. Graffiti on the walls, pylons looping; it’s all deserted, run down. The tram doesn’t
look like it’s going anywhere you would want to go, and it’s not driven by a man in a top hat any more. The town in the painting is big
enough to have a railway going through it, with a curiously old fashioned train, whose column of dark smoke adds to the polluted sky.
I don’t know why I like the painting so much. The desolation would not seem appealing to a lot of people. But James McNaught doesn’t
paint like anyone else, and he seems to speak a kind of truth that I recognise and respond to.
Our appreciation of his work continues to be enhanced by our knowledge of the Midi. There is one corner house in particular which
we refer to as the ‘James McNaught house’, although we have yet to see anyone’s bottom at the window ……..
'The Silent City' 30 x 70 cms gouache & watercolour on paper 2011.