Discovering Denton Welch

Category: Art

Finding flow

Photo by MJ S on Unsplash

In 1940, Denton  moved away from the depressing, functional flat in Tonbridge to a modern concrete box a few miles away in St Mary’s Platt. The war was well underway by now, and Denton was less accessible to many of his friends so his social life shrank. He became quite depressed, and his relationship with Evie came under strain; according to Gerald Mackenzie it was volatile, sometimes even violent, with household items being hurled about.

In September of 1940, inspired by J. R. Ackerley’s Hindoo Holiday and possibly galvanised into action by a bomb exploding yards from his house, Denton made a start on Maiden Voyage. The routine of writing steadily every morning calmed Denton. It gave him a sense of serenity and focus. At the same time, he began his largest art work, ‘Harvest’, which now hangs in the Tate.  

I know nothing about art, and I’m a little worried that I won’t do justice to Denton’s once my exploration reaches that element of his legacy. Is ‘Harvest’ any good? I’ve no idea. I have no idea about the artistic merit of any of Denton’s daubs, but he seemed to sell quite a lot of it during his lifetime, albeit for modest sums. The few pieces that I’ve seen online appeal to me greatly – vivid colour, the ordinary made fantastic, nightmarish in an Alice-in-Wonderland-y way. It seems odd that someone who didn’t care for written abstract seemed quite at home with it as an artist.

It’s a great personal sorrow that so much of Denton’s art work is hidden away in private collections and archives. From what I’ve read, though, Denton does seem to have painted with commercial intention rather than to express himself. His paintings don’t seem to have been created with the hope that someone will adore it or cherish it – just buy it. Self expression seems to have been achieved primarily through his writing. I may change my mind about this impression the more I discover of Denton, but his painting and writing are showing up as two very different animals to me. 

Starting Maiden Voyage seems to have marked the beginning of a much happier, more settled period for Denton. Despite domestic upheaval at the end of 1941 when the Hop Garden burned down, 1942 was one of the most satisfying years of Denton’s life. He had secured patronage for Maiden Voyage, come to the attention of influential People Who Matter, had some poetry published, and his paintings were starting to attract attention. He reflected on the year in his journal.

“This may all be only a beginning, but it means something, and I must go on and on and on.”

Denton selfies

My books arrived! I’m very excited to read Denton’s journals and short stories, but having just finished (and wept over) Denton’s letters to Eric Oliver, I decided to step out of Denton’s world for a while and view him from a biographical point of view. 

Denton’s younger self portrait (the one on the left) seems to be the go-to for illustrations in articles and online materials, probably because it’s the one that hangs in the National Gallery. Behind his Harry Potter glasses, Denton looks querulous, dissatisfied, unfriendly. His nose is pinched, his mouse is pursed. I wouldn’t be drawn to someone who seems so ready to find fault with the world. However, it’s totally understandable that Denton would look grumpy – he’s about 25 here, and still in a lot of residual pain from his injuries. 

I much prefer the slightly older self portrait with the pipe (middle). He’s about 28 here, and he still looks like he’s giving us the side eye, but his mouth looks like it could be juuuust on the verge of turning upwards. He looks relaxed. And he’s lowered his hairline – perhaps he didn’t care for his high forehead. Denton painted this happier-looking self portrait the year that he met Eric Oliver. Coincidence…?

I’ve read the introductory material and the first chapter of Denton Welch – Writer and Artist by James Methuen-Campbell. The first chapter covers Denton’s childhood until the age of 14, when he’s sent to Repton school. His childhood was unconventional, to say the least – Denton travelled extensively with his mother, and didn’t learn to read until he was nine. It’s unthinkable now, but must have contributed to the imagination and adult worldview that evidently shaped his teenage experiences.

It’s odd reading about Denton in the third person now, recognising incidents that he describes or refers to in his books, but hearing about it from someone else. There’s going to be even more of that heading into the ‘Repton and China’ chapter that comes next, so I’m excited for new insights!