After working as an artist for seven decades it seems an appropriate time to gather the works of years into a chronological form.
The earliest works pre-date public television, computers and even electric typewriters and now the works have to confront AI.
After studying painting at the RCA I tried other media, sculpture and photography and it was fifteen years before I was convinced that painting and drawing were my language and has been ever since. Although more recently I have produced several videos working with Ross Wickins.
Over this period I have written little directly about the works but I have included various notes within the appropriate Archive.
I also write both short stories and what seems to be a more recent genre ‘Flash Fiction’. These can be both fictional and semi- biographical - I will be making some of these available on this site.
The place where he lives, (formerly with his wife the late Emily Mayer, sculptor) the surviving infirmary wing of a former workhouse, tells you a lot about him. I don’t think there’s anywhere else like it in the world. Workhouse is the right word because every single space is for work really and there’s always something going on.
I don’t think John is a landscapist. I don’t see any of that. I see more than landscape, I see semi-industrial, semi-rural North. I think there’s a lot of Bradford in it and there’s probably a lot of weaving and other local industries. To that extent I’d call him very much an artist of his native place and to an extent I would say that he was autobiographical. Being autobiographical is not telling a life story. It’s insisting on something that, once it has caught his attention he won’t let go of. That’s what often happens in his paintings. The paintings are quite physical. You can tell someone has put their muscle into it as well as their eyes.
One of the curious things about him is that he is so individual - you never feel totally at home with a good Loker painting because they are demanding. Although he is a sociable person, it’s not a sociable kind of art really. It’s funny that, but there it is. It’s so idiosyncratic. He doesn’t look like anyone else.
Tim Hilton - Art critic and art historian and prolific writer, formally worked for the Guardian and Independent on Sunday
When asked “Do you think he (John Loker) is an abstract painter Niel Bally replied, “Not really. You see there are very few abstract painters. Just because somebody’s non figurative or doesn’t put figures inside a painting doesn’t mean to say they’re abstract. A big influence, as he says himself, is Paul Nash…… John innovates. I haven’t actually seen anybody remotely near his work who he could be taking things from. He’s quite obscure in the way he references and takes from things.
If it doesn’t sound corny, I would say his work is about his place on the planet. He’s actually relating to the now and how we comprehend where we are. There are lots of things to enjoy, like the decoration, the colour and all those beautiful things about his paintings, but what’s actually the core of it? It’s like a philosophy. It’s trying to understand the metaphysics of everything, how we comprehend and how we live within the space and relate to it.
Niel Bally - Painter
It was in a South Norfolk village, the autumn evening was tranquil and warm so groups of locals were taking advantage of it, strolling and chatting on the green.
Outside the Red Lion were a group of ‘ shooters’, the ‘guns’ as they are called in these parts, mainly youngish lads who sounded well pleased with their day spent destroying the local wildlife. They seemed determined to inform everyone else of their prowess, and were letting them know what fun they were having by emitting loud guffaws, all seemed to talk and no one to listen...
It was in a South Norfolk village, the autumn evening was tranquil and warm so groups of locals were taking advantage of it, strolling and chatting on the green.
Outside the Red Lion were a group of ‘ shooters’, the ‘guns’ as they are called in these parts, mainly youngish lads who sounded well pleased with their day spent destroying the local wildlife. They seemed determined to inform everyone else of their prowess, and were letting them know what fun they were having by emitting loud guffaws, all seemed to talk and no one to listen...
It was in a South Norfolk village, the autumn evening was tranquil and warm so groups of locals were taking advantage of it, strolling and chatting on the green.
Outside the Red Lion were a group of ‘ shooters’, the ‘guns’ as they are called in these parts, mainly youngish lads who sounded well pleased with their day spent destroying the local wildlife. They seemed determined to inform everyone else of their prowess, and were letting them know what fun they were having by emitting loud guffaws, all seemed to talk and no one to listen...
For the past six decades, John Loker has produced rigorously conceived and visually mesmerising works of art across media. Known as a photographer, sculptor, assemblage-collagist and above all painter, he is one of modern Britain’s most original and category-defying artists. Lewis traces Loker's unusual artistic journey from Bradford College alongside fellow students David Hockney, Peter Kaye, David Oxtoby, Norman Stevens and Michael Vaughn, his education at the Royal College of Art, rise to international attention in the 1970s and recent focus on space and the horizon of our planet.