Inspired by the juxpostion of objects, John Tunnard’s Self-Portrait is unsettling
Although artists in Britain were slow to respond to the influence of surrealism – the movement started in France and aimed to reveal the unconscious and reconcile it with rational life – when they did so, it was with a particular sense of English restraint that could be as decorative as it could be psychologically penetrating. John Tunnard was such an artist. His training as a textile designer at the Royal College of Art greatly influenced his sense of the decorative, but also helped to nurture intriguing and, occasionally, provocative paintings.
After leaving art school in 1930, Tunnard moved to Cornwall, settling in the fishing village of Cadgwith where, with his wife, he ran a hand-blocked printed silk business. Later, he started to paint – initially, traditional landscapes until he became aware of radical continental art movements that shifted away from representational art towards more abstract compositions. Inspired in part by the writing of Herbert Read and by the work of artists such as Paul Klee and Naum Gabo, particularly his sculptures fashioned from semi-transparent intersecting forms and planes, Tunnard became more adventurous, exploring a combination of the abstract and impressionistic. The paintings brought together the seemingly contrasting tendencies of constructionalism and surrealism.
With a broad range of often unusual interests, Tunnard was regarded a something of a character. As a pacifist, he was opposed to war and hunting, while, as a musician, he was an enthusiastic drummer in a jazz band. He was also keenly interested in, and had a deep knowledge of, ecology. His paintings were often informed by such concerns. Later, he developed a passion for the excitement of new scientific discoveries and space travel, taking satellites, moonscapes and radar as subject matter. Titles such as Frequency and Magnetic Field were typical. In darker, more sinister images, Tunnard referred to topics such as nuclear weapon testing.
Along with the painter Graham Sutherland, he was loosely seen as a part of the English neo-romantic movement, continuing the tradition of landscape art, but with a modern sensibility. Yet, unlike other neo-romantics, Tunnard was more inspired by the possible juxtaposition of diverse objects, many fading in and out of his semi-abstract compositions. These were enriched with engaging and intriguing textures using techniques such as stippling and scrumbling to blend one form subtly into another in a complex layering of one over another.
The pacifist Tunnard served as an auxiliary coast guard in the Second World War, endlessly scanning the sea in search of enemy aircraft and submarines – experiences reflected in the way he created an impression of depth in his painting. His entomological pursuits included collecting and cataloguing marine life, sawfly and seabirds, all of which appear in his work. An engaging self-portrait includes not only an image of the artist gazing directly out of the frame, but an accurate depiction of a sawfly as well as organic and mechanical forms. For the Festival of Britain, he devised a mural incorporating the current concern with crystallography.
The wealthy art collector Peggy Guggenheim regarded him simply as “a genius”, describing his gouaches as being “as musical as Kandinsky’s, as delicate as Klee’s, and as gay as Miró’s”. High praise indeed, which, given his success, begs the question of why he is not better known today. This sensitively mounted exhibition with sections devoted to the different concerns in Tunnard’s art traces his development from his overt concern with surrealism to his late visual explorations of outer space. All affirm the individuality of his vision and its abiding relevance to contemporary life.
John Tunnard: Inner Space to Outer Space continues until June 6. An excellent catalogue discusses Tunnard’s paintings and sets them in their historical context
