Laurence Friedlander

More Apollonian than Dionysian. More realist than romantic. More truthful than misleading. I paint clearly in a world that has gone preposterous and blind.

My view is often one of jaded detachment—born of exclusion and a personal narrative bought with distress. I am not immune to pain, but I was tested and did not break. I fought for every inch while others were given miles.

A man and the real MacKay. Thanks to the thousands of understanding viewers.

Bachelor of Arts with Honours, University of Warwick, on a full, necessary scholarship. Back when there were only 2,700 highly selected undergraduates (148 IQ and up, plus plenty of character)—unlike the dumbed-down, ever-so-intersected 33,000 of today. On Day 1, they lectured us on critical thinking: the how. Not done in "inclusive" circles now.

Subsequently, Adversity in the UK—the best teacher. It included "social slapping," institutional sneering, and the downgrading of my cultural capital to put me in my place. Which precluded me taking an offer for a PhD on a full scholarship at UCLA (another Quality Learing Center?). I had visited Los Angeles for a friend's funeral and liked the climate and ambience (though they couldn't credit my political nous). Better than cold, wet Boston or NYC. But Adversity in the UK had successfully internalised their verdict in me. Look what they did to me—The Betrayed, The Path of Awareness, etc.—and to others. "Education" round here is peopled by mediocrities who play identity cards and encourage others to do so. Like Eric Hoffer, Jack Vettriano, Lindsey Buckingham (funnily enough I rip without a pick also) and others, I typify "self-taught." And I can.

A few years after my first degree, I was i...

Yes, twice. I've heard: "Interesting" (curator feedback). "Like Otto Dix" (technique or controversial? I wondered). "Have you ever thought of teaching Art?" (projection?). "Reminds me of..." "Funny." "I like how you've done the shadows." "Those steps, that's really difficult." "That tree..."

"I used to be a boxer" (after viewing his muse, my painting How Did You Die? his boxing life story followed). "There's nobody smiling" [???]. "I wouldn't have that in my house" (I surmised that was because she couldn't afford my price). Among other compliments, including "brilliant" (projection?).

One lady asked to touch the surface of a painting and became, so it appeared, transfigured (more projection—herself onto my canvas?).

City Girl, a 2025 painting, was very well favoured by numerous female viewers when I was in attendance at exhibits.

(PS: When I use the word "projection," it is as far as I comprehend it—which might not be totally correct. British, distinct from the USA psychological meaning).