Camberwell Graphics Degree Show -Illustration

JAMES BEATTIE
A BIT OF TREPIDATION.
It would be a dark and stormy night (if it wasn't for the Greenhouse effect) and I am feeling temperamental, I have to offer a few pictures that dismissive people might call illustrations.
I am in one of those tempestuous moods that fosters imaginary hostile critics from my own groundless impression of other peoples' view of my work. I have just had my first independent exhibition, quite successful, after a highly remunerative six month tour of Bosnia Hercegovina with the Army (1 Mech Bgd).
In Bosnia I became a war artist rather than fulfilling the usual duties of a combat Signalman. I brought back a hefty portfolio predominantly for my own use. College was quite impressed: as impressed as artists can be about images of machines of war and ethnically cleansed villages.
My temper as described in the first paragraph has no real justification for any ill humour. True artists are prone to emotional swings. The artists I know call me a solder, the soldiers I serve with call me an artist, a lost beast torn between opposing camps, but that has always been my game, playing the exhibitionist and disturbing the balance of cultural divisions through no choice or intention. Though never disloyal to either camp, much.
Anyway here is an image of mine that I threw up in Bosnia. The Bosnia portfolio is all from life. As yet I have always had the leisure to paint without the aid of photographs, a privilege I foresee losing very soon.
This painting of guns, though demonstrating a formidable show of military strength actually epitomises the tranquil Atmosphere of Bosnia during the summer of Ninty Six.
The men of the Royal Horse Artillery sit and clean their rifles in the sun, and their mobile artillery (for these particular machines are not known as tanks) sit only threatening strength, cleaned and ready but ultimately dormant. Ink Wash A1.
My second Image may or may not be on The Net as yet, but it's an oil painting of my right hand in seven different poses. In order to practice painting life, without a mirror or a model, leaves only the spare hand. Oil on canvas 1/2feet.
After the Camberwell College Degree Show in June, I shall be exploring all the options open to a veteran war artist. Portraiture seems to be a profitable field as everyone has a face, the army loves their hardware and I feel quite happy preying on peoples vanity!
But the only real answer is what my degree was all about, Graphic Design.
J.H.L.Beattie. 14 Dalmore road, London, S.E.21 8H.B.

JAMES BEATTIE A BIT OF TREPIDATION. It would be a dark and stormy night (if it wasn't for the Greenhouse effect) and I am feeling temperamental, I have to offer a few pictures that dismissive people might call illustrations. I am in one of those tempestuous moods that fosters imaginary hostile critics from my own groundless impression of other peoples' view of my work. I have just had my first independent exhibition, quite successful, after a highly remunerative six month tour of Bosnia Hercegovina with the Army (1 Mech Bgd). In Bosnia I became a war artist rather than fulfilling the usual duties of a combat Signalman. I brought back a hefty portfolio predominantly for my own use. College was quite impressed: as impressed as artists can be about images of machines of war and ethnically cleansed villages. My temper as described in the first paragraph has no real justification for any ill humour. True artists are prone to emotional swings. The artists I know call me a solder, the soldiers I serve with call me an artist, a lost beast torn between opposing camps, but that has always been my game, playing the exhibitionist and disturbing the balance of cultural divisions through no choice or intention. Though never disloyal to either camp, much. Anyway here is an image of mine that I threw up in Bosnia. The Bosnia portfolio is all from life. As yet I have always had the leisure to paint without the aid of photographs, a privilege I foresee losing very soon. This painting of guns, though demonstrating a formidable show of military strength actually epitomises the tranquil Atmosphere of Bosnia during the summer of Ninty Six. The men of the Royal Horse Artillery sit and clean their rifles in the sun, and their mobile artillery (for these particular machines are not known as tanks) sit only threatening strength, cleaned and ready but ultimately dormant. Ink Wash A1. My second Image may or may not be on The Net as yet, but it's an oil painting of my right hand in seven different poses. In order to practice painting life, without a mirror or a model, leaves only the spare hand. Oil on canvas 1/2feet. After the Camberwell College Degree Show in June, I shall be exploring all the options open to a veteran war artist. Portraiture seems to be a profitable field as everyone has a face, the army loves their hardware and I feel quite happy preying on peoples vanity! But the only real answer is what my degree was all about, Graphic Design. J.H.L.Beattie. 14 Dalmore road, London, S.E.21 8H.B.