July 2006
A mature student from Glasgow School of Art stood in my studio recently, surrounded by my paintings. She expressed delight and excitement but I was stunned when she told me one of her tutors maintained there was no room for emotion in today's art! That set me reflecting on my time at Glasgow School of Art in the early 60s. I was fortunate in being taught just not to draw, but also to see.
I was lucky to learn from established artists includingDavid Donaldson, the late Sinclair Thomson, William Armour, Geoff Squires and up and coming artists like Duncan Shanks and George Devlin. They were all inspirational, and not only in the most obvious ways. I recall beig set a still life by Willie Armour, Head of drawing and Painting. He took the morning class, and the afternoon we were taught by who had just graduated and was working as a visiting tutor.
When Willie saw my picture, he wanted me to tone down the oranges. I did so but seeing the dull oranges that afternoon Duncan said, 'make the oranges sing....' I hastily squeezed out the thick juicy oil paint but next morning was reprimanded by Willie for not doing what I was told! This pattern continued for a few days before I realised I would need to paint separate pictures, for Willie and for Duncan. However, this exchange, taught me one important lesson. You do not paint for other people - you paint for yourself. Sadly, in today's terms a large number of artists don't paint for themselves - they paint for the cash register.
After leaving art school I went to Jordanhill and, fortunately. After 6 months I was released to work with youngsters whom I was determined to make them love art as passionately as I did. Thirty years later I finally admitted defeat.
By that time it was obvious that the educational establishment was ignorant of the importance of developing creative skills in all youngsters. So the majority of pupils who should and could have been inspired and changed by art instead were allowed, indeed encouraged to see the study of art as a waste of time. In addition those in charge now maintained that the 'process' was more important than the 'finished' piece. That meant, amongst other things, that the subject was forced to take on the computer - which, I felt, devalued the role of the art teacher and art itself.
My chance to leave this changed and debased profession came when the Tory Government, keen to save money,offered early retirement to teachers over 50 in promoted posts. Then I moved to Newton with my partner and now wife, Jean Bell, also a painter. For the last ten years we have run Fyne Studios, the Hidden Gallery,as we call it - set in the idyllic small village on the shores of Loch Fyne. We also hold weekly classes. These are immensely rewarding; our style of teaching is appreciated, and understood. One of our students is Michael Russell. In a recent article for then Times Educational Supplement , he described his experience that "slowly, and without realising .... I was being taught and noting that, "for Don and Jean, art is a passion they wish to share"....
We still love where we live but have learnt some lessons. If starting all over again, we would now seek a place not dominated by holiday homes. In our community there are 26 cottages, yet only 8 of those are permanently occupied. This results in a village which at some times in the year feels as if it lacks a soul. We have also suffered unpleasantness from a few insecure and aggressive residents who feel threatened by art and artists, bring more than our share of local discord, including with Argyll and Bute Council which is unsympathetic to small creative ventures and unable to assist them. One result has been the enforced removal of our sign from the nearby road - hence our phoenixing into 'the Hidden Gallery' in response. But seek and you will find.
But we are in our community to stay, for as long as we can, and as long as it inspires us and motivates us. I am awe inspired by the might of nature and that sorce of strength and beauty always close by in Argyll. My paintings are about raw physical power and the passion and emotion it generates. A month ago jean and I stood in a thuderstorm along the shore from our home, painting in the midst of the torrent and noise and thrilled to be able to do so.
I like to show the presence of the paint on the surface - warts and all ! I work quickly on the spot catching the essence and the moment. I am not making a topographical copy - the digital camera, Photoshop‚ and the wonders of giclee print can be used to do that in their coldl, soulless and repetitive way. the physical reality of the painting is a living thing.
In the Arts Review‚ September 1999, Marshall Anderson wrote '.. McNeil's outdoor paintings bring about an emotional charge and expression of being Scottish through physical gesture. Within 45 minutes he wants to capture the moment, along with all its implications.....' I still want to do that, to feel and explore the 'emotional charge'. I alweays will: to me that charge is the essence of art. No matter what any one else thinks!
Don Mcneil 2006 article in 'Chapman's 108 publication.