An Ode to Kieron Williamson

1,431 words

Of the many things in this world which I know nothing about, the one for which I wish this wasn’t the case is art. Not only do I possess zero skills in drawing, painting, or sculpting, I know next to nothing about art history, the various artistic movements, or the art world. Despite my severe lack of knowledge on the subject, I still thoroughly enjoy art. While I would struggle to use my ten fingers to count the names of famous artists who I know, some of my best memories from my travels include visiting world-famous art museums such as the Louvre in Paris, the Metropolitan Museum of Art in New York, and the Hermitage in Saint Petersburg.

If you were to ask me what art I like, I’d defer to the adage, “I know it when I see it.” I might not be able to tell you which paintings represent Realism, Impressionism, or Romanticism, but I could tell you which ones please the soul as great art is meant to and which ones do not. I recently came across the name of one particular artist by chance. I may not be an art critic, but I can safely say that I knew his work was fantastic from the moment I first saw it.

His name is Kieron Williamson ^[3]. His work mostly consists of paintings of landscapes from across England. While I am not qualified in the least to comment on his technique, I can describe the feelings his art evokes. For me, his paintings conjure a feeling of whimsy. They depict England as a quaint, yet wondrous land full of enchantment. His work reminds me of my train rides through the English countryside. They illustrate for me the images in my head that I imagine Oliver Twist saw during his journey to London in Charles Dickens’ eponymous novel.

So, who is Kieron Williamson? Was he a lesser-known artist from the Victorian Era, born in the nineteenth century? Nope. In fact, he wasn’t even born in the twentieth century. He was born in 2002. He’s indeed younger than me. Williamson was a child prodigy. His work first appeared in an exhibition in 2009 when he was seven years old. His work received worldwide acclaim from the outset, with many of his early paintings as a child selling for tens of thousands of pounds. To date, he has made millions of pounds selling his work, with his most valuable painting selling for £45,000.

I came across Kieron Williamson’s name when reading an article online about child prodigies. While his immense talent from such a young age is certainly impressive, this isn’t why I am fascinated with his work. The fact of his having been a child prodigy shouldn’t overshadow just how great his work really is. I find that the art he has produced as a young man is just as inspiring, if not more so, than that which he produced as a child.

Williamson is a native of Norfolk, England. His most recent exhibition, titled My Norfolk, features a collection of scenes from across his home county. They depict farms of livestock and fields of wheat, small fishing boats resting upon the coast, and locals going about their day. It gives an impression of Norfolk as a homey, tranquil, deep-rooted corner of England, reminiscent of the Shire from Lord of the Rings.

Being dazzled by such fantastic works got me thinking about the contemporary art world more broadly. Why is it that today, a banana taped to the wall, or a red swirls strewn across a white canvas, are more famous than any of the works of Kieron Williamson? It most certainly is not because they required greater technique. If I hadn’t been told otherwise, I would have thought these were simply the result of leaving various household items within reach of a three-year-old child, not works of artistic brilliance worthy of any kind of praise.

As a know-nothing when it comes to art, the only other contemporary British artist I can name off the top of my head is Banksy, the pseudonymous street artist and activist whose identity allegedly remains unknown. The fact that his work is held up as being among the most significant art of our time really drives home for me what’s wrong with the art world. First of all, I don’t think Banksy’s art is that good. Sure, it’s better than anything I could make, but for art which is said to be of generation-defining importance, it’s really not that impressive.

Beyond that, I feel that the messages of Banksy’s art are being placed above genuine aesthetic beauty. It feels as if I am being lectured rather than being allowed to simply enjoy a great work of art for what it is. Also, the mystique about him being an anonymous street artist feels contrived and forced. Am I really expected to believe that in the age of smartphones, the Internet, and CCTV that no one has been able to identify whoever is painting these giant murals on the sides of buildings that are located in full view of the public? Furthermore, I find the actual message behind these politicized works to be quite shallow. This street art feels a lot less like cutting social commentary and a lot more like a regurgitation of the values pushed by the political establishment and the mainstream media.

Ultimately, what I find uninspiring about Banksy — and most modern art in general — is that I am being told that it’s great in a forceful, ham-fisted way rather than the art being allowed simply to speak for itself. This is because this art can’t speak for itself. Modern and abstract art often purport to give the viewer a greater degree of freedom to interpret and enjoy the works, yet I feel as if the opposite is true. Presenting a urinal or random scribbles on a chalkboard as art gives the feeling of an authoritarian force imposing a dogma upon you in a punishingly overbearing manner. It is said that the meaning of these works of art is open to interpretation, but really, the message is simply nihilism. In other words, it’s the exact opposite of what art is meant to evoke.

Part of me feels unqualified to make such assertions given my total ignorance when it comes to art, but maybe it’s this soul-crushing emptiness pushed by the artistic mainstream today which has left me with such little motivation to expand my knowledge on the subject. I can’t imagine that those who qualify as experts in this field today wholeheartedly believe that the trivial symbolism found in abstract art is of higher value than actual artistic brilliance. The only explanation I can come to is that their goal isn’t to promote beauty, but something else — but that’s a topic for another day.

I don’t feel like I’m being lectured by Kieron Williamson’s art. I am presented with a genuine work of beauty, and my imagination is allowed to run wild. Simple scenes of birds flying in a sunset over a meadow, or a bridge over a creek emerging from the thicket, have me drawn to Norfolk as if it’s some far-off mythical land from a fantasy novel. Some of my favorite paintings of his depict men working on farms while wearing modern-day florescent jackets. They give the impression that the scenes he captures aren’t from a distant, long-gone past, but are alive and well in the present day. And unlike with what passes for fine art today, I don’t feel like I’m being asked to force myself to appreciate these works through intellectualization. The sensation of gazing upon true beauty comes first. Putting it into words comes second.

It’s encouraging to know that there are such talented young artists as Kieron Williamson in our world today. It’s also encouraging to know that there is huge market for his work, given that his paintings regularly sell for tens of thousands of pounds. Not only is his art great, but it stands out as an expression of genuine artistic talent in contrast to that of the vapid and uninspiring mainstream. Judging by the amount of money people are willing to shell out for it, there are many out there who feel the same way.

Godspeed to Kieron Williamson. Keep on bringing beauty into this world, young man.