Line, Imagination and the Spaces Between Stories.
Peterjon Skelt is a British artist whose intricate ink drawings combine figurative imagery, fantastical creatures, graphic precision and a deeply literary imagination. Working primarily through line, Skelt creates scenes that appear to exist within larger, unresolved narratives, inviting the viewer to imagine what has happened before and what may occur beyond the edge of the page.
Drawing for more than five decades, Skelt developed his visual language through an early fascination with comics, illustration and the work of Aubrey Beardsley. His practice is informed by artists ranging from Hieronymus Bosch and Max Ernst to Patrick Caulfield, Leonora Carrington and the practitioners of ligne claire.
Although Skelt spent his professional life working in computing, art remained a constant counterpoint to the structure and demands of corporate life. This tension between order and chaos, the mechanical and the organic, and the need to earn a living against the need to create continues to surface throughout his work.
Rich in visual ambiguity, humour and implied symbolism, his drawings resist straightforward interpretation. Titles drawn from literature, music and popular culture often guide the viewer towards a possible reading, only to complicate or subvert it.
Are you self-taught, or did you undertake formal artistic training?
I am largely self-taught, insofar as I read a great many comics as a child and my school art teacher lent me the Da Capo Press editions of The Early Work of Aubrey Beardsley and The Later Work of Aubrey Beardsley.
Art was also one of three subjects I studied during the first year of my undergraduate degree, although this did little more than instil in me a lasting love of most early twentieth-century artistic “isms”.
How would you define your visual language or conceptual approach?
My work is predominantly figurative or creaturely, often combined with fantastical and graphic elements.
Because many of the works take their titles from lines of literature or song lyrics, people sometimes assume the images are illustrations. That is rarely the case. The titles may suggest a possible interpretation, but the images are not intended to depict a pre-existing text directly.
Can you describe your creative process from conception to completion?
Almost anything can trigger the idea for a picture: a phrase in a book, a bend in the road or an image in a newspaper.
I may produce several initial drafts on A6 or A5 paper before developing the image in pencil at A3 size, although I occasionally work at A4 or A2. The final drawing is then completed in ink.
Some works incorporate collage or cut-out elements. A piece may be completed in a single day, while another might remain unfinished for decades before I eventually return to it.
Does narrative, symbolism or storytelling play a role within your work?
The drawings often depict a moment within an implied narrative, perhaps at a point of decision or action.
The events that led to that moment, and what may happen afterwards, are left for the viewer to imagine. The implication can also be spatial: what might be taking place beyond the edge of the drawing?
The title may direct the interpretation of the image or deliberately subvert it, frequently introducing an element of humour.
Which artists have most influenced you, historically or contemporarily, and why?
I am particularly drawn to masters of line, including Aubrey Beardsley, Patrick Caulfield and W. Heath Robinson.
I also admire many artists associated with the ligne claire tradition, including Hergé, Joost Swarte and Ruby Fresson. Their work demonstrates the power of clear definition and, equally importantly, an understanding of what can be omitted.
For the breadth and scope of their imaginations, I return to Hieronymus Bosch, Remedios Varo, Edward Burra, Leonora Carrington, Wyndham Lewis and Frida Kahlo.
Above all, there is always Max Ernst.
What personal, cultural or environmental influences shape your practice?
I have been drawing for more than 50 years, although my entire professional life before retirement was spent working in computing.
Over the past few years, I have realised that many of my drawings reflect the tensions created by living this dual life: the need to earn money set against the need to create.
This conflict may appear through figures under threat, order set against chaos, the natural world opposing the mechanical, or some other form of visual tension.
Another recurring strand within my practice is collaboration with writers. In these projects, the text may precede the image, although it does not necessarily do so.
Where is your studio based, and how does the space inform your creativity?
I work from home in a small town within the green belt outside London.
The house has always been a warm, domestic refuge from the life of a corporate salaryman. It is filled with well-thumbed and much-loved collections of books, pictures, records and films, which probably explains why so many of my drawings take their titles from these sources.
For many years, the house was also full of my children and their friends, but interruptions were never a problem. I tend to have several drawings in progress at different stages, so there is always something that can be fitted into an available half-hour, whether pencilling, inking or tackling what feels like an acre of dots.
Do you have any rituals or rhythms that anchor your studio practice?
There is almost always music playing, provided it is not classical.
What bodies of work or projects are you currently developing?
I currently have a number of individual works in progress.
I am also digitising three early collections for my website: The Camberwell Book of Hours (1977–1980), The Endless Pony-tail of Fortune (1979–1989) and Monumental Figures (1983).
These collections were originally published in extremely limited photocopied editions, so digitising them will make the work accessible to a wider audience.
Where can collectors encounter or acquire your work?
Several books featuring my work are currently in print.
Same-size giclée prints can also be produced from individual drawings. This process allows the qualities of the original black ink work to be reproduced with a high degree of accuracy.
Collectors can view available work and further information at:
www.peterjonskelt.com
