The following is a recent interview conducted by :-

 Following is our email conversation with Graham about his work, his outlook on art and, just a little bit, about his life.

 By Carrie L. Lewis

EP: How long have you been painting?

GI: I gave up a secure teaching post and turned professional freelance in 1972. Being a complete unknown, I started selling my work by exhibiting on the park railings in Bayswater Road, London every Sunday. Now there's a way to become directly involved with the buying public.

EP: Why did you decide to become an artist?

GI: It was all I ever really wanted to do... In fact I really upset my teachers at school who wanted me to go to University to pursue a literary career.

EP: How did you learn your craft?

GI: I attended art college back in the early 60's and received what can only be described as a 'classical' education. Possibly the last year that it could happen before they threw out all ideas of instilling sound principles of design and craftsmanship. It was the most incredible experience - one that has stayed with me for the rest of my working life.
For the first year we were put through a series of intensive courses in all the major disciplines; Life Drawing, Design, Pottery, Sculpture, Painting and Printing. We were then given the opportunity to concentrate on the area of our choice.
For the next four years we worked alongside many of the major Art figures of the day. These were not 'Lecturers', but professional artists who, for whatever reasons, had decided to devote a little of their time to we students. They taught us by example and involved themselves in our work in a way that made them seem more like colleagues than teachers. We were given virtually unlimited access to materials and equipment and, together with obligatory lectures every week, were encouraged to pursue our own lines of enquiry.
This is not to say that we were allowed to waste our time with unproductive or ill-conceived ideals. Whatever we were working on had to be justified in terms of integrity, historical and modern precedents and solid design principles.
Incidentally drawing played a major part in the curriculum. I still believe it is impossible to do anything until you can draw. To me drawing is a way of seeing and that is what an artist is all about.

EP: Have your styles evolved over the years and if so, why?

GI: Yes, I think my style is always changing, albeit slowly. This is not a conscious decision, but a natural process caused by constant reassessment of my work. I've always felt that to develop as an artist it is essential to be one's own worst critic; to stand back and ruthlessly reject anything that is ill-considered or facile.

EP: What variety of subjects do you cover, and about what percentage of your work features equine subjects?

GI: Although 90% of my work is of the equine scene, I can and do paint just about anything. To paint successfully, one must recognise that everything exists in direct relation to it's surroundings. Ergo one must paint those surroundings: Whatever they are. In the past I have painted nudes, maritime, landscapes and interiors. In fact I've just completed a life-size painting of Argentine Tango dancers, which is to be a birthday present to my wife. For those unfamiliar with the Argentine Tango, it is not so much a dance as a way of life; a whole philosophy. To paraphrase Terry Pratchett - This is definitely not the dance where the couple moves at a predatory crouch, arms clasped ahead of them like the bowsprit of a killer galleon. You've all seen them……. They advance purposefully across the floor and then turn in a flurry of limbs that appear to defy normal anatomy before beginning the angular advance back again. No. No. This is the really moody dance....The one which looks as if one should be arrested for even thinking of dancing it. We dance it at least once a week.

EP: Do you have an all-time favourite painting that you've done?

GI: I think the nearest I can come to answering that question is to say that there are one or two that stay relatively close to the initial concept. 'The Ford', for instance, manages to capture something of the quality of light that I wanted. I don't think any artist is truly satisfied with his finished work. For instance, apparently Monet frequently agonized over his inability to achieve anything good. Can you believe that? We're talking about Monet here!

EP: Do you find it different marketing equine and other work (if you do other work)?

GI: I've always found that if a painting 'works' then it will sell no matter what the subject matter. However, I think it's true to say that the whole art market is wonderfully serendipitous and no-one really understands how it works.

EP: How much overlap do you find in the equine art audience and the "fine art" set?

GI: This is an interesting question. At the risk of sounding flippant, I suspect that there are those who are interested in Equine Art purely because of the subject and those who will buy despite the subject. Having said that, I have to say that a lot of my paintings are currently in the collections of those who buy 'Fine Art' per se.

EP: Where do you think equine art fits into the art world?

GI: Over here in the UK I think 'Equine' or 'Sporting art' is generally considered very much a minor genre - one not to be taken too seriously. This is both unfortunate and puzzling when one considers the English sporting traditions.
However, it's just conceivable that it's merely the result of that most fickle of mistresses; fashion. It is very fashionable to talk about art having to challenge one's perceptions. My painting sets out to please me; if in addition it pleases someone else, so much the better...It means I get paid!

EP: Who are some of your favourite artists (past or present)?

GI: I consider my old tutor Bernard Dunstan to be one of the finest painters alive today. I am in complete awe of his sheer, bloody-minded observational skills and his fantastic guarded control of colour. Ken Howard for his panache and Jane Corsellis for the honesty of her approach. Additionally, for an object lesson on how to paint 'skies with attitude' one could do a lot worse than look at the paintings of Fred Cuming.

EP: How would you like your art to be remembered

GI: I would be extremely pleased to think that anyone looking at my paintings would say, "Now there is someone who really worked at it!"