Chris Bacon was born in Watford, England just two weeks before his father moved the family to Ascension Island for business.  Several moves succeeded this, in locations such as Fiji, Bermuda, and finally Canada when Bacon was a young teenager.  He became interested in art at an early age, doubtless due in part to these beautiful places of his youth.  Bacon also gives credit to his father and grandfather, who, despite artistic leanings, were not able to pursue art.  Nevertheless, they steadily encouraged Bacon in his craft.  “My father and I used to have little painting contests...out of National Geographic...and I said [to myself] I wanted to paint better than him one day.”  It is also interesting to note that Bacon expressed a fascination in birds from the beginning, adding that his mother saved his art from the early days.  Indeed, these drawings of storks and warblers demonstrate an unusual amount of talent for a toddler-aged boy. 

The artist describes in detail the experience of creating his first painting at eleven as though it was days ago: “We lived in the garden of England, in Kent, nestled in the North Downs...my buddies and I used to ride around the hills on our bikes with our shovels and uncover items from the war.”  During one of these trips, eleven-year-old Chris sat up by the chalky cliffs, looking down on a group of swallows that had landed.  As a child, Bacon had aspired to be a pilot but was prevented from pursuing the career as he has never been able to see out of his left eye.  He knew that the wing of the iconic Spitfire was designed after the swallow’s wing.  Recognizing the vision of the scene below him, he produced an aerial-view painting.

            Speaking with Bacon, it is clear that he has awareness of his artistic past, present and future.  Self-assurance comes through his gentle voice as he continues in his elaborate but fascinating history.  He speaks affectionately of his “granddad,” who, after viewing Chris’ first painting, eagerly bestowed his own paints and brushes to his grandson.  Perhaps his grandfather felt that Chris would be able to accomplish something as an artist he was never able to.

In Canada, his high school art teacher Finn Mackenzie recognized Bacon’s talent and encouraged him to get his work photographed.  Mackenzie also mentioned that there was another teacher whom Chris might be interested in meeting: Robert Bateman. 

“Bob [Bateman] looked at my paintings and sort of criticized them, and invited my father and me over.  Bob said if I wanted to continue painting birds, I better learn to paint them properly and do fieldwork.”  Desiring to hone his skill, Chris began field work shortly after this.  During this time of intensive self-training, Bacon reveals a surprise: “I spent so much time on the paintings that I failed high school...I failed art actually.”  Nevertheless, this happening certainly did not mirror his artistic pursuits.

“I did have enough paintings by the time I was eighteen to walk into a gallery,” Bacon says, referring to Alice Peck Gallery in Burlington.  “[They] agreed to have the first show.  By this point I had turned nineteen and had twenty-two paintings.  They sold out in about three minutes.”  For the first few moments of the show, Chris sat in his car outside of the gallery. “There I was looking at this line-up and thinking there must be some mistake, there must be something else going on.  By the time I got into the gallery, I was going up the stairs and a friend said to me, ‘There’s one painting left.’  The guy on the stairs behind me said, ‘I’ll take it!’”  Following this success, Beckett Fine Art in Hamilton invited him to have his second show at their gallery.  

Considering this series of events, it is apparent that becoming an artist was a process: “There was never any conscious decision [to become an artist] until I did my first show and I had to decide: Was I going to do this for a living?”

            When questioned on the artistic process, Chris launches into another equally interesting narrative. He is obviously passionate about the subject, his voice ascending every now and then into quiet excitement.

“I learned back then I had to develop a code, or a vision, or personal philosophy.  I needed to be more disciplined, and as un-influenced by everyone else as possible.”

“I had had no formal training, I didn’t know what composition or colour was.  So I explored them.  It has been like a series of zigzags, trying to apply what I’ve learned.”

            Chris Bacon describes constant study as a requirement: “The moment you think you have mastered everything, you start to stagnate.”  When I voice my agreement and mention the need for humility in a craft, as in my writing, he elaborates: “Always be humbled.  I’m humbled every time I walk into a museum.”  Referring to the intimidating masterpieces often found in an art museum, he remarks, “You’ve really got to give it everything to put a scratch in the surface.” 

            Bacon mainly works in his studio, occasionally venturing into the outdoors for study.  Nevertheless, he does not “go into the field blindly,” he begins with a vision: “Early in the morning I’ll be semi-consciously dreaming of something, an idea that I have to record.  They are like little thumbnails.”  These thumbnail ideas are usually what he will elaborate on, whether in the studio or the field.  “Rarely when you go out looking for something, do you find it.  Then there are pleasant little surprises, and you have to shift your focus to that.  But there is an order [to it].  I can sit a whole day, watching and waiting for things to happen...it’s a kind of solitary pursuit.”

This avian artist with a strong sense of creative integrity reflects a moment on his history.  “It was a series of mini pivotal moments.”  He pauses, then adds, “It was like the natural course of things,” as if struck by the influence of nature on his life.  The natural and artistic worlds can certainly do with more Chris Bacons to represent them. 

by Ashley S.,  WineAndLeisure staff writer.

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