Maggi Hambling

Aged 15, Maggi presented herself to Cedric Morris and Lett Haines at the East Anglian School of Painting and Drawing. The time she spent painting at Benton End during the school holidays were profoundly influential. She has described Lett as her mentor, teaching her the power of the imagination, and that art had to be the absolute priority of one’s life. Maggi subsequently went on to train at the Ipswich School of Art, Camberwell and The Slade, but has said nothing was ever like Benton End.

Maggi’s sea paintings began on a stormy day in November 2002 and the series continues to this day. She writes: “The approach of a distant wave gathering momentum is exciting. Then it becomes solid, reaches its climax, dissolves and retreats, and the whole sensual drama begins again’.

Maggi Hambling is in danger of becoming a National Treasure. Born in Sudbury, she now lives in an idyllic riverside cottage in Suffolk and all her life she has loved the county of her birth. She was catapulted to national fame in 1980 when she was selected as the first ever artist in residence at the National Gallery. She has never looked back.

Her talent was first recognised by her art teacher at the age of 14. A year later Maggi presented herself to Cedric Morris and Lett Haines at their quirky East Anglian School of Painting and Drawing and thence, via Ipswich, to Camberwell and The Slade.

She has painted many penetrating portraits including Henrietta Moraes (a series), Michael Jackson, Francis Bacon, George Melly and Stephen Fry. In the late eighties there was a series of bull-fighting paintings. Other series have been laughs and sunrises. And of course there have been rollicking television appearances with George Melly and Melvin Bragg – and a large number of exhibitions all over Britain and abroad.

Maggi’s sea paintings began on a stormy day in November 2002 and the series continues to this day. As Cezanne had a compelling fascination with Mont St. Victoire, as Monet did with poplar trees and water lilies, so does Maggi with the North Sea in all its moods. She writes: “The approach of a distant wave gathering momentum is exciting. Then it becomes solid, reaches its climax, dissolves and retreats, and the whole sensual drama begins again. Moving water is a potent symbol of life. When a wave breaks, the skin of the surface meets the flesh of the depths.”’