In October 2021, I stood in the sun-drenched garden of opera singer Graeme Broadbent, admiring a large collection of artworks by post-war artist Glyn Uzzell. Graeme (with whom I became fast friends, and therefore refer to casually by his first name) revealed hundreds of canvases and works on paper, spanning decades of Uzzell’s career. These, he had recently purchased from the family of the artist.
I was introduced to monumental canvases drenched with fields of colour and gestural strokes of paint, and tiny collages with perfect smatterings of delicate paper cuttings. Meanwhile, undeniably modern etchings bore marks that could have been there for thousands of years. Everywhere I looked, there were moments of charged energy, uninhibited gestures, enigmatic motifs, burning oranges and the deepest of blues.
But why was I there that day, getting a private viewing of Graeme’s collection?
Image Credit: Glyn Uzzell, ‘A Travers les Nuages’, 1974, Oil on canvas, ©Estate of the Artist, Courtesy of Graeme Broadbent
I had recently learnt about Uzzell’s prolific career, which took him from his industry-heavy hometown of Swindon, to Goldsmiths College, and avant-garde art scenes in Paris and New York. Uzzell also had a rich career as a teacher. He helped set up the Centre de Gravure de Genève (Centre for Printing in Geneva) and established the first Art and Design programme for the International Baccalaureate.
In 1979 he moved to the Algarve, Portugal, and found international commercial success as a painter-printmaker. Sadly, he and his partner, Paul Fonck, passed away in 2014 due to a gas explosion in their home. By some miracle, Uzzell’s studio survived the blast, and a huge body of work was saved from destruction.
Despite his unique vision, creative influence and commercial success, Uzzell is relatively unknown in his country of birth. He kept ties with London and Wiltshire throughout his life, often returning to visit friends and family, and exhibiting at the Chelsea Art Club and Brewery Arts Centre. Yet, probably owing (in part, at least) to his frequent geographical distance, Uzzell’s work has not had the recognition it deserves.
This blogpost marks the beginning of a research and curatorial endeavour, which will explore, celebrate and preserve the creative legacy of Glyn Uzzell. The Broadbent Collection provides a brilliant resource to support this project, which I expect will take me down many unexpected roads and tangents. Since there is little pleasure to be found in making discoveries without a means to share them, I will be writing about my research as it develops.
To end this beginning, I would like to thank Glyn Uzzell’s friends and family for trusting me with his legacy. This project is born from the respect that Uzzell’s loved ones have for him, both as an artist and a friend. Regretfully, I never had the chance to meet Uzzell. So for me, the drive to carry out this project comes from an appreciation for an artist whose work I admire, and about whom I have so much left to learn.
Katie Ackrill
Glyn Uzzell: Making a Mark 