Antony John
Antony John was born in Gilfach Goch, Wales, May 16, 1960. After moving to Canada in 1970, he graduated from the University of Guelph with an Honours B. Sc. In Wildlife Biology.
He married Tina Vanden Heuvel and started dairy farming with her father in 1984, in Sebringville, ON. They subsequently bought a farm, and in 1993 started growing organic vegetables under the name “Soiled Reputation”.
Like Augustus John before him, Antony had a natural talent for drawing. Indeed, Antony’s father was a draughtsman, and as a young child, Antony would use his father’s discarded plan drawings to sketch upon.
As a teenager, Antony began to branch out into other mediums, briefly with oils but then, after seeing Alex Colville’s work, settled on acrylics. Antony’s farming and painting career has been interspersed with acting appearances as well, hosting a television show in 2003 called ‘The Manic Organic’, and playing the role of Bishop Michael Power in a documentary about the Irish potato famine called ‘Death or Canada’.
In his paintings, he is interested in the emotional and moral effects that generate tension and unrest in both the controlled, ordered world of farming, and the unknown, apparently chaotic world of the rainforest, specifically, the elements of both worlds that have to be addressed before a state of grace is achieved.
Antony’s work shares its focus on a central duality. Farming, and its attendant morality, representing the world of the planned, organized, and controlled, which is pitted against the overwhelming power and capriciousness of the weather, and
American jungles, representing a journey through an unfamiliar landscape, where the world of the unknown carries its own tensions to resolve. He has received numerous juried show awards (London regional Art Gallery, Perth Huron Arts Council Award, Tom Thompson Juried Exhibition, Sarnia Public Art Gallery), has held exhibitions at The Perimeter Institute, Gallery Stratford, The University of Guelph Faculty Lounge, and Langdon Hall.
Antony’s works hang in private collections across Canada and the United States. He has lectured at the Perimeter Institute, The Art Gallery of Ontario, and Fogo Island Inn, and his work has been discussed in the National Post, the Toronto Star, and numerous periodicals and television. Antony is represented by The Agora Gallery (Stratford) and Skwirl Gallery (London).
Current Artwork For Sale
Machine Shed
2022 acrylic on masonite, 24.5” x 38.5".
"Late February Sun, Durst Barn"
2022 acrylic on masonite, 20" x 25"
Level Crossing
2009 25.5 x 40.5in acrylic on masonite
Farming is a challenging, difficult vocation. So much of one’s existence and livelihood is completely at the mercy of the weather. And, as farms are getting bigger, the financial burdens are increasing. It’s not hard to see why sometimes the pressures beyond our control can be overwhelming. As a new farmer with a young family, I was well aware of the financial responsibility sitting on our shoulders, and the lives of both our children and livestock needed to be constantly at the forefront of my thoughts. To make ends meet in the lean Winter months, I often took on a second job, relief milking on local dairy farms. On just such an occasion, I was caught in one of Perth County’s infamous snow squalls, and driving along the county roads became a dangerous undertaking, made worse by the near zero visibility at a train crossing I had to drive through. A moments inattentiveness, or a brief lapse of judgement could have changed everything. It took me twenty years to summon the courage to do this painting, and felt a tremendous sense of catharsis once it was finished. I had finally got it out of me.
I found the idea of a truck called a Dodge Ram parked on a railroad crossing a compelling one, for it implies a dual outcome. The brake lights are on in the truck, and the railroad crossing lights are flashing. Clearly a moment of decision is upon the driver. It’s worth noting that the driver (me) is staring in the direction of the oncoming train, but the observer of the painting is place behind the truck, facing down the road. The licence plate counts down…
Ultimately, this is a painting about decision making, and a reference to the notion that an artist is sometimes one who looks in a direction different from a crowd, and that our role should be to seek a path when all seems obscured by events in our lives.
"Saw Whet and Coffee Tree"
2023 acrylic on masonite, 16" x 20".
I wanted to have most of the colour in this composition in the background, so I tucked the owl in the dark side of the tree, which is pretty much how Saw Whets behave anyway. They are adorable little birds that you can sometimes find in the Fall during the week that they migrate through southwestern Ontario. They're extremely confiding and show little regard for us humans, which is how it should be.
Blackbirds Leaving SOLD
August 30 2021 24 x 39in acrylic on masonite
Although we’ve been growing organic vegetables on our farm for 28 years, this is the first time I’ve really attempted to explore ideas related to my vocation as an organic farmer. I think the momentous decision to sell most of our land precipitated my decision to tackle the subject. The buyers are conventional, GMO using farmers, and seeing the gigantic corn planter roll up and effectively negate a life’s work of organic soil building was a difficult thing to watch. We continue to grow vegetables on 4 acres of remaining land, although I’m not sure for how much longer. Visually, I wanted to contrast the incredible biodiversity of our crops and it’s resident biota, with the monoculture of GMO corn. Specifically, by designing a composition whereby our crops are running smack into a fortress of corn. A flock of Red-winged Blackbirds, as is normal for this time of year, are departing from their breeding grounds on our farm, to their wintering grounds in the south. A once majestic Green Ash has succumbed to the Emerald Ash Borer, and is slowly dying. Once what’s left of our farm is gone, so too will be the bird, mammal, insect, and plant life associated with it.
As I painted this, remembering the hundreds of crops we grew using certified organic methods, the process itself of technically rendering each minute characteristic of the various elements of the painting became a metaphor for the work we had put into our farm over the last 30 years. The degree to which I could draw on memory to render the details, spoke to the deep connection to the land Tina and I have nurtured over the years. The discipline and effort required to do these visual elements justice, mirrored the level of commitment and attention to detail that growing using organic methods requires. My life as an organic farmer prepared and informed me for the challenges of this painting on every level. In a way, this painting is my own “Horse and Train” (Colville, 1954).
Church and Vulture SOLD
2021, 24” x 39” Acrylic on Masonite
New Moon Rising
1989, 24" x 39" acrylic on masonite
Owls are found on every Continent except Antarctica. Some species are pan global in distribution, such as the Barn Owl and the species depicted in this painting, the Short-eared Owl. This global dispersal partly explains why so many species of owls figure in mythology, but I think their appearance and behaviour accounts for most of the folklore. Owls are the only group of birds that have a facial structure similar to ours, with both eyes located on a disc shaped face, giving them a penetrating stare. Perhaps their appearance accounts for humans describing them as wise. Their visual acuity and nighttime activity has also endowed them with a spiritual, metaphysical presence, and in the case of the Barn Owl, a longstanding association with old buildings such as churches and cemeteries has often resulted in them being given ghost-like attributes.
In Roman mythology, owls were seen as transporters of souls to the afterlife, a vital link between the present and the future, life and eternity, all seeing and omnipotent. All of this is wrapped up in the scene of New Moon Rising. The Short-eared Owl is placed between Heaven and Earth, one wing cradling the emerging full moon, as though it were a spirit rising, another pointing heavenward, like the gravestone hand. The feet of the owl appear ready to grab the headstone carving and carry it off. The owl’s gaze is directed at us, engaging us with the unfolding scene, making us participate in it’s resolution.
The landscape and season are also relevant to the painting. There is an emotional quality that I associate with hills, what mysteries lie on the other side? Finally, I wanted to set the painting in that transitional time of year where I live, just as the last snow of winter is receding, but the new growth of spring has not yet emerged, the brief time between one state of being and the next.
Barn Cat SOLD
2017 18x25.5in acrylic on masonite SOLD
This is our barn cat, Tyrone. Half wild, half house cat, a boxful of instinct and potential energy, waiting to be triggered. The signs are all there. The cage behind him representing confinement, and the barn post marked by his claws, representing dominance. His domain of the barn is a kind of purgatory between tame and wild, urbanized or domesticated and yet still connected to the rhythm of nature, aware and super tuned to the slightest vibration. A fuse between potential and kinetic energy. Tyrone died a hero’s death a few weeks ago, choosing a quiet spot in my shed to end his journey. I buried him in my Soiled Reputation hoodie he used to curl up in, with full honors, in our meadow. I saw a lot of myself in Tyrone.
Least Grebe, Oaxaca SOLD
2017 20 x 30in acrylic on masonite
In 2016 Tina and I travelled to Oaxaca and Chiapas, on a birding and culinary tour. This region has an extremely high degree of what us birders call ‘endemism’ – bird species that exist nowhere else on Earth. The same climatic and geographic factors that account for this speciation, also contribute to the unique culinary history of Oaxaca, for this was the place that teosintle was cultivated and domesticated into corn, some 8000 years ago. We saw close to 300 species of some of the most colorful birds I’ve ever seen, including Buntings, Tanagers, and Hummingbirds. However, the image that stayed with me the most was this plain looking Least Grebe, paddling alone across a pond. The ripples made by the bird created a wonderful abstract design of green and blue, and the bow wave ahead of it radiated wonderful ribbons of varying tones of green. The bird itself was an interesting challenge, because Least Grebes have feathers that look more like fur, and are extremely water repellent. I liked how the drabness of the bird didn’t take anything away from the pattern in the water.
Tina’s in the Barn N/A
2018 20 x 30in acrylic on masonite
I have long wanted to paint our barn’s exterior, and this represents my first attempt. Like most of my rural images, I attempt to imbue the scene with some sort of emotional resonance. Interestingly, this image came about 33 years after my first attempt at portraying an emotional state with a landscape, (Tina’s Out West), and I have returned to my relationship with my lifelong partner as the theme of this work.
January, where we live in the snow belt of Southwestern Ontario, can be a cold and barren place. Lake effect streamers and storms can drop a lot of snow, where it gets whipped around into blinding squalls over bare farm fields. Historically, the barns that were built had to be sturdy and thick-walled to ward off the intense cold and protect the animals inside.
The gunslinger on the barn door is taken from real life. Our son Tyler stenciled the cowboy on the door as a birthday gift to me some years ago. Here he confronts the viewer, his gun drawn to challenge oncomers.
The time of day of the painting represents that ambiguous period of late winter twilight, as the sun quickly sets, just before plunging the farm into another cold winter night. Tina’s presence in the barn is marked by the lights on in the barn windows, providing a warm contrast to the cold light of dusk. The massive bulk of the barn acts as a fortress, guarded by the cowboy, an emotional vault that none can enter.
The Young Bull in My Barn
2022, 37.5”x 43.75” Acrylic on masonite
Barn Swallows Leaving SOLD
August 30 2020 21 x 24in acrylic on masonite
Both farmers and migratory birds are keenly aware of the passing of days, and the changes in both the quality of light and length of daylight as the seasons change. The shadows on August 30 will not look like the shadows on September 30.
For the Swallows, they have spent the summer raising 3 broods of young, and our 20 active nests contributed 200 new individuals to a population suffering over 80% rates of decline. The Swallows have senses the change in daylength, and have stopped breeding in order to fuel up for migration, flying from our farm in Sebringville to destinations as far flung as Brazil. For the young of the year, they will be making the journey for the first time, yet somehow manage to navigate by the stars, aided by weather systems streaming southward. Such a distance means the birds have to get the timing right, before their food supply runs out on their northern grounds.
This year, on August 30, I watched as a massive flock of Barn Swallows passed over our farm at sunset, circling high above, catching insects on the wing. At that moment, all of the Swallows from our farm began ascending en masse to join the ever growing supercell of Swallows, and begin their journey south.
This painting is called 'Barn Swallows Leaving (August 30th), and it touches on the passing and keeping of time, witnessing the change of seasons so prevalent from the fixed reference point of our farm. The cycle of life, told through the lives of the Swallows, and the mystery of the dark threshold beyond the broken window pane. Light/dark, transparency/secrecy, happiness/tragedy, and so on. When we first bought the farm 20 years ago, the first thing I did was to put new boards on the barn, and windows to try and let the light in. The barn and I have both weathered. A lot. Swipe left for details and geometric schema drawing.
March Thaw SOLD
2014 32.5 x 45.75in acrylic on masonite
Almost every March here in southwestern Ontario, we get a warm rain from the south, rapidly melting the snow and ice that rises as fog over the frozen fields. The effect is quite dramatic at night, and conveys a deep sense of mystery to me.
The barn holds it’s own mysteries as well, and the darkened window with red highlights hints at perhaps an unhappy history locked inside, as rain washes the red paint down the barn wall.
During the month of March, the moist air and fluctuating temperatures would wreak havoc in the barn, and calves sometimes contracted pneumonia. In spite of our best efforts to medicate and nurse the calves back to health, we would sometimes lose an animal. When this happened, the calf was brought outside for pick up by a dead stock removal company (this protocol now has even more relevance today in the grip of our current pandemic, and in a sense, the painting was prescient given the current state of affairs). As the calf lay on the snow, the heat draining from it’s body would melt a silhouette in the snow. A snow angel marking a life expired, and the effect it had on me as a young dairy farmer. I think, because I had to learn to farm, as opposed to being born into one, I saw and experienced these tragedies on a more profound level. It was certainly something I never got used to, and I had to wait almost 20 years for the memory to diminish enough to paint about it. Maybe one day the light will come on in the barn, and the secrets will be expunged.
I finished this painting around Easter, and my father in law saw it just after it was done. He was an incredible dairy farmer, and a wonderful mentor to me as I learned the vocation. After taking in the painting for a few minutes, without prompting, he said, “I guess in a way this is a resurrection piece”. I never forgot those words, or the lives of the animals lost prematurely on the farm.
Amazon
2021, 36” x 54” Acrylic on masonite
This painting is based on an encounter we had with a family of Amazonian Giant River Otters, in the Peruvian Amazon in 2017.
We were paddling in an oxbow lake in a wooden dugout, and our presence alerted the creatures, who came out to meet whatever was intruding on their territory. I had erroneously assumed that, like their smaller cousins, this species was both curious and friendly, and so I stated mimicking the lead otter’s barks. This infuriated the otters, who now saw us as a threat to be dealt with on no uncertain terms. Our guide pointed out the danger we were now in and advised me to stop making the noise. 30 feet from the boat the otter was satisfied we were no threat, and retreated with the rest of the family into the impenetrable vegetation of the shoreline.
Giant Otters are over 6 feet long, and are apex predators in the watery realm they inhabit. They are also extremely rare and endangered. Indeed, more people have seen Jaguars than these magnificently adapted creatures. (Jaguars are also attacked by Amazonian Giant River Otters if they enter the water in otter territory). They also live in tightly knit family groups, led by a matriarch, hunting and defending cooperatively.
The otters for me, came to represent metaphorically the Amazon ecosystem, the matriarch a living embodiment of the mythical Amazon warrior women. The sheer size of the otters conveying the enormity of the Amazonian ecosystem, all of it nonetheless under threat from human activities such as illegal logging, gold mining, and land clearing. The incredible adaptations that has shaped this species for a life intimately tied to the waters of the Amazon speaks for the myriad biological connections of an Amazonian ecosystem that is in very real danger of being destroyed before we fully realize the complex intertwining of life that has evolved here. So too, the complex interplay of ripples on the surface, echoing the interplay of sunlight and water in the rainforest’s biological systems, giving rise to such an incredibly rich tapestry of life.
These otters are coming out to confront us, to force us to comprehend the incredible scale of the Amazon, its complexity, and the threats they and all they are connected to, face through our ignorance, hubris, and greed. Inaction is no longer an option.