Muscle and guts are at the heart of Peter Howson’s work in this major exhibition, as Howson squares up to his back catalogue on an epic scale. A holy trinity of self-portraits introduce each of the three floors, from ‘Jekyll and Hyde’ (1995) to the ‘Repentant of 2001’, and, in his most recent study, a man etched with the lines of experience.
This points all the way back to Howson’s early images of boxers, bruisers, prostitutes, and dossers, who seem to be threatening a square go with the viewer. Like the prowling beast in ‘Tiger’ (2000) painted during a wildlife commission in India, many of Howson’s subjects look ready to pounce. Howson’s choices of celebrity portraits are as telling, as a toned and pneumatic ‘Madonna’ (2002) sits in repose, while a defiant but wary looking ‘Steven Berkoff’ (2002) occupies the mean streets.
On the second floor, under the umbrella title of Suffering and Salvation, Howson charts his religious awakening that came following a breakdown shortly after his tenure as official war artist in Bosnia.
God’s presence has arguably been there right back to ‘Wages of Sin’ (1990), Howson’s take on ‘The Last Supper’ (1999) depicts a cramped and crowded scene full of scary looking disciples resembling his bruisers of yore. More contemporary concerns are depicted in ‘Homeless Jesus’ (2018), while the depravities of ‘Hades and the agonies of The Stations of the Cross howl with a desire for personal transcendence. This palpable in the determination on Howson’s face in ‘A Singular Road’ (2001), marking a turning point in both Howson’s life and work.
On the top floor - as close to heaven as the gallery will allow – Howson’s recent work falls under the trenchantly titled banner of Apocalypse Now. This reveals a world of Bosch-like carnage, where flag-waving violence bursts onto the streets, while the suffering and rage in the face of the Coronavirus pandemic also makes its presence felt.
As overwhelming as all this is, Howson’s brighter side shines through his portrait of ‘David Bowie’ (2016). The connection came about after Bowie purchased one of Howson’s Bosnian paintings, and finds Howson an excited if just as intense fanboy.
Old ghosts still linger in the likes of ‘Bosnian Twilight (The Silent Forest)’ (2019).
There is a vital currency as well to works such as ‘Wagner’ (2023), which depicts seven possibly deadly conscripts to Vladimir Putin’s private army at the vanguard of Russia’s assault on Ukraine. Poised for action in a scrum, and finding strength in numbers - they nevertheless look to be at war with themselves and their own psyches. In a world where such acts are driven by fear in a grand scale, perhaps this is Howson’s most terrifying vision of all in this mighty show of strength charting a life’s work in all its torment and triumph.
When the Apple Ripens: Peter Howson at 65 is exhibited at City Art Centre, Edinburgh until 2nd October