Neil Dawson

Regent Street Rain by Neil Dawson
Nighttime Rain by Neil Dawson
Afternoon Shower by Neil Dawson
Soho Cab Ride by Neil Dawson
Piccadilly Reflections by Neil Dawson
Night Time In the City by Neil Dawson
New Yorker by Neil Dawson
City Splendour II by Neil Dawson
No Sleep in My Dream by Neil Dawson
City Splendour by Neil Dawson
The Bay Bridge by Neil Dawson
Venetian Reflections by Neil Dawson
London City Rush by Neil Dawson
Twilight Taxi by Neil Dawson
New York, London, Venice, Paris. Fine artist, Neil Dawson clearly has a thing for cities. Big, bold, beautiful, engaging, overpowering, enigmatic urban thoroughfares that command our immediate attention and respect. They’ve always provided a draw and allure to artists of all generations and genres, searching for that previously unseen perspective on a tantalisingly familiar angle, scene or vista. Dawson is no different, yet so very different at the same time. He’s constantly a prisoner to their colour, energy and vivacity and describes what he sees as a contradictory subtle and confrontational aspect to the metropolistic urban spaces that he commits to canvas. Moreover he insists that nightfall proffers an even more special atmospheric advantage that gives his visions even greater visual power play. The flooding of artificial light and the fluid, visceral movement of rain hitting the surfaces with an intensity all of its own, highlight cities that never sleep or even nap take on a draconian scale. To Dawson’s mind, these concrete jungles never stand still and provide a constant and ever changing source of inspiration for him.

It all might have been so very different for Dawson though, had he not experienced something of a cathartic moment in his unrelated career that beckoned him back to the creative fold after choosing to take an altogether surprising direction at a pivotal time. Despite showing all the early signs of forging a promising career in the world of professional art, Dawson chose not to follow this calling and seek out another vocation in life; until of course, that cathartic moment we mentioned. On leaving school, Dawson managed to secure a coveted place on an art foundation course at the much-celebrated, Central St Martins School of Design in London; and a seat of creative learning that had thrust the revered likes of Stella McCartney, Peter Blake, Terence Conran and, er, Jarvis Cocker upon society at various junctures in the space-time-continuum. Unfortunately the one year course didn’t live up to Dawson’s expectations, in as much as he was hit with a painful truth and emotional obstacle that, try as he might, he just couldn’t conquer, and that essentially triggered him falling out of love with art.

It was an expected and encouraged part of the art foundation course, as with any other, to describe your work. The reasons and concepts that lie behind the canvas, what you as the artist was thinking at the time and moreover, what you hope the public at large will see in your creation. Effectively to labour on the message that said imagery is supposedly perceived to be conveying to its new audience. Dawson understandably felt that this was virtually impossible, and that this explanation more often was dealt with by the heart and mind of the individual beholder. And that dissecting and discussing works in their unclothed form was not something he wished to be privy to or necessarily respected as a process. Either way, Dawson completed the course, however then made the decision to turn his back on art. He went on to study for a degree in economics of all disciplines and subsequently entered the banking and financial industry shortly after.

But obviously this wasn’t the last we’d heard from Dawson the fine artist. The thing is this. Dawson had always sought a great deal of passion and excitement from travel, and has journeyed extensively over the years. And it was only when Dawson began to travel that his interest in art was revitalised and eventually led to a renaissance. Photographing anything and indeed, everything that he encountered on his travels, on returning home Dawson was moved and visually inspired enough to want to dig out his old paints and palette and see if he could turn back the years, to his adolescence and to when he naturally painted for fun. He reimagined his extensive photo diaries of life here, there and everywhere on canvas, and almost immediately discovered an overwhelming affinity with the mediums, the materials and more than anything else, the sheer desire to visually record courtesy of his dormant talents. Dawson soon quit his banking career and turned his now undivided attentions back towards art in all its glories and strove to carve out a new career.

And when Dawson’s not circumnavigating the globe – and is found a little closer to home – he insists that he’s equally as motivated and inspired by the everyday and circumstantial evidence he also commits to canvas at every opportunity. Explaining that he’s a very visual-led artist, Dawson cites everything from watching TV, walking around town and flicking through newspapers as having influenced his subsequent artworks, and any given images, compositions and colours can spark an idea or concept in his mind; which he then instantly transcribes to paper in either the form of jotted notes, doodles and graphic scribbles, knowing that he’s got the nucleus of a future composition, right there.

View All Art Works By Neil Dawson