Tony Huggins-Haig, is a British artist, who has rapidly emerged as one of the most sought-after naïve colorists in the contemporary art world today.
Entirely self-taught, Tony’s creations possess a unique vibrancy and unmistakable signature that has drawn the admiration of art collectors worldwide. His artworks now grace distinguished collections across continents, from Australia to the United States, and throughout Europe and the UK.
Tony’s art work records all our journeys through life. Resonating deeply with audiences from all walks of life—across age, gender, social class, and nationality. His works have found countless homes in private and corporate collections and are prized by figures in sport, music, film, politics, and royalty alike.
With roots grounded firmly in the North Tony’s journey is as compelling as his artworks. Overcoming both physical and social challenges, he has forged a remarkable career, worthy of a book captivating collectors globally through resilience, dedication, and undeniable talent.
Life is a Journey
Looking back through time as far as my memory allows me to go back, I can remember as a young lad. Exploring our back streets and local area with my friends and family, thinking that the world was a wonderful place to be.
As a child growing up I began to explore more of our local environment with friends and family and learn about life. This, plus listening to stories from my family and friends it would appear that the world falls into two camps: That of good and evil.
I guess that simply put, I don’t think it matters what colour of skin you have or what religion you choose to follow. If you try to be as good a person as you can and treat people the way you would like to be treated, then this philosophy if carried out by all would make for a far better world and place for us all to live.
History
I was born in the small picturesque fishing village of Boulmer on the North East coast. This was a place where men and women worked hard and played hard. These people had little material wealth but what little they did have they would share. They had character, charm, warmth and the community was at the heart of most things. My family lived together, at first in a one bedroom cottage with no electricity and an outside toilet, none of the mod cons as you would know them today. As time moved on and our family expanded, we moved 2 miles inland to a council house in the large village of Longhoughton. First to a 2 bed then eventually as one came up, to a 3 bedroom semi with all mod cons. It felt like we were rich and we would live here for the rest of my childhood.
The new surrounding streets were a little strange at first but we were accepted by the local families and fitted right in. As kids we ran in and out of each others houses up and down the streets and didn’t have a care in the world. In hindsight we had little money, but everyone looked out for each other, with a real sense of community and belonging. This was now the 70’s – 3 day weeks, power cuts, low wages but my brothers and I knew nothing about this. Being sheltered by our parents and family, fed sugar or jam sandwiches, washed down by dandelion and burdock pop from the travelling shop.
No Game Boys here, playing with sticks and stones, imaginary guns, cowboy shoot outs. If it was your birthday or Christmas and you got a football as a present, with the addition of a couple of jackets or jumpers for goal posts a game was born. The streets were indeed our stage where we would learn to interact, to imagine and to dream. Imagine playing in a big match where, with a football, you could be scoring the winning goal and winning the world cup. And the streets would be the place you had your first kiss and girlfriend. This world, when I think back to how things were, has gone a long way to shaping me the way I am today.
The brothers Robert, Tony, Michael and Paul
During these formative years I developed a love of initially drawing and recording things. At school I did ok at Art and really enjoyed the subject. However after a conversation with my granddad, one wet day, he explained that people like us don’t become artists we have to get proper jobs.
Granddad was right, at this time it was not normal to become an artist from a start in life like had, coming from a council estate. This peer pressure would steer me away from art as a career for 20 years. It’s a shame my Gran and Granddad would not live to see it happen but I know they would have loved me proving the doubters wrong.
Leaving school in what some call the Thatcher years, when work places close by were closing and not taking on young men. Large organisations in ship building, coal and steel were closing down or laying people off. The dole was the only real long term option open to me this intermixed with Youth Training Schemes.
I realised that unless I found a career or long term working, then I would be on life’s scrap heap at the age of only 18!
When I was 17 I joined the Territorial Army (good enough for Billy Connelly, good enough for me). With no work available I took the only option open to me, passing a medical and joining the regular army. The army would take me to Germany, where we trained for the iron curtains threat sitting in a fox hole (trench) with a life expectancy of less than 2 minutes. Talk about short straw, we were the furthest battalion, the furthest company, the furthest platoon and yes the furthest section forward at the point waiting for the big bear to attack. Fortunately for me that attack never came, shame, all that free vodka coming our way if it kicked off, but glad the way it’s turned out with a thawing of relationships between east and west.
Next we were sent to Northern Ireland, out of the kettle and into the frying pan, a 2 year posting which would see us travel all over the province. When I stepped off the plane a Bob Huggins had been killed and thinking it was a relative they wanted to send me out of the area.
This was not the case and I would patrol all over the place keeping the peace between the Catholic and Protestant communities. I walk the province trying at all times to have an open mind about threats posed to us and yet always trying to treat people we met out and about in their communities with civility, decency and humour.
I could not at the time really understand why people of two religions had as much hatred for each other, and us being in the middle of it. Religion was not as important in the North East, I had never asked a friend what religion he was. I can say I am glad that the troubles seem to be over and that people in both communities in Ireland are getting on a lot better with each other. Hopefully democracy will continue to prevail, and one community will be built for all religions.
When boys became men, Paul, Tony, Robert and Michael.
I have visited Ireland many times since, I love the people, full of crack and banter and have some great friends there. I think Geordies and the Irish have similar traits, hard workers and caring people.
Next we were posted to Cyprus a very hot place indeed, to play soldiers. The ground was rock hard and digging in or running around in it you were ripped to shreds. I can only imagine how hard it is for the guys in Afghanistan and Iraq now. These very brave men and women, sent to what the army describe as a theatre of operations (not of their own asking).
Many once there, not knowing exactly the reason for them being there. But I’m sure they try their very best to make a difference to locals on all sides of the community divide while they ar out there. What a shame we continue to send young soldiers at the scribble of a pen to places politicians would not walk themselves.
After six years the Army and I had a parting of the ways. I had, like others been bossed around at times by officers who although clever on paper, at times demonstrated unbelievable arrogance and poor leadership when it really counted. I decided that as officers had degrees, they were able to go and get commissioned. I would go into higher education and retrain and try to put my life on an even footing with the officer class, but always retaining a grounding, not an arrogance.
My first year after leaving the army was hard going. I had gone into the local technical college where to be fair they were trying to do their best but I could not write about my favorite pet if I have never had one. I could write about my army experiences, the cruelty and kindness I had experienced during my service. But the course was structured for young school leavers and not too flexible.
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Graduation Day.
A turning point
I made a visit to Sunderland to see my younger brother Paul, a very clever lad indeed. Brothers Robert (older) and Micheal, next one down were also in the army. Again it was that or the dole as there was little work in our area. Paul the youngest had gone to a different possibly better, school. He had stuck in and got good exam passes and went to Sunderland University.
I had popped in to see him at the Benedict building where he was studying, to have a cuppa and a catch up. He had to go into a lecture so I waited for him. During this time I had a chance meeting with the head of year, a lovely man, Clive Birch, a senior lecturer. Clive (a Welshman) took me up to his office for a blether and we had a cuppa and cake!
I must have hit it off with Clive as when I got home 2 days later I had an unconditional offer to do a degree at Sunderland University.
Funding myself for the most part, cleaning windows and doing odd jobs during the holidays I had a fantastic time at Sunderland. It was hard being out of education for so long but with a great deal of hard work and the support of some great friends, I gained my degree. Sunderland is a fantastic place where I was treated very well. I will always have a soft spot for the place. Education had now opened doors for me which would eventually lead to a career in art.
Yvonne Haig
In 2001 I met a lovely lady, Yvonne who seemed as mad as me, hard working, very caring and we fell for each other in a big way. I arranged a meeting with her dad, taking everyone out for a Chinese meal. I did my homework and knew he liked chocolate eclairs. We got chatting and I said I would take Yvonne off his hands for a bag of chocolate eclairs, a fair swap! A deal was done, so I produced Tony and Yvonne. the sweets from below the table, to the amazement to all in the room. I later found out that Trumpton (Yvonne’s dads nickname) was poorly, so we decided to add our names together when we married so his surname would live on for another generation. We married within about 6 months of meeting and I moved up the Scottish Borders to live. We would also go on to build our own home, Hardens Hall.
Trumpton past away knowing she had married and was happy, as was his other daughter Louise, which is all a dad can expect, he told me.
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Tony and Yvonne
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Tony and Yvonne outside the first Art House Gallery.
The Art House Gallery
In 2004 we finally found our first gallery location. After searching the length and breadth of the borders for a period of over two years, we had found a closed down, former book shop tucked away in the corner of the square in Kelso. This we believed was the right location to bring a modern contemporary art gallery to the borders. We wanted to create something very different, to the galleries that currently existed in and around the borders.
We took the plunge and within 12 days had ripped it out and refurbished it taking a lease for 5 years.
The gallery went from strength to strength and because of this in 2009 after spending a year (yes in the recession) fitting it out. In Dec 2009 we moved around 150 meters in a straight line from the old gallery to our new one at 22 Bridge St, Kelso. The new gallery space offered 5 distinct gallery rooms over two floors show casing some of the finest artist’s works around today. Over the years we have built some great friendships with these artists with regular visits and exhibitions of their works.
Once the gallery was going the way I wanted it to with Yvonne running front of house, I stepped back to focus on my own art space and work, which is housed in gallery 1. With 18 months delay (due to the local authorities inability to work closely with a supposed valued business partner) we eventually managed to open my gallery within the boat sculpture.
Big Boat Sculpture
The big boat sculpture and entrance was my brain child of. The rear of the Art House gallery was a derelict sheet metal garage. By replacing the garage with a new gallery space the chance was created to do something completely different with the entrance. The space offered me the opportunity to continue my work with schools and disadvantaged community groups. Schools and community groups visiting the gallery through the boat sculpture get a warm welcome and then almost step into another colourful world of wonder. They spend time in all the gallery rooms and interaction with the gallery team and Tony allow them to fully enjoy their visits.
The Art House Gallery can be found situated in the heart of the old historical borders town of Kelso. It has fast gaining a reputation as one of Scotland’s leading privately owned modern contemporary art Galleries. As art collectors, gallery owner and artist and with Yvonne we have travelled far and wide, around the world to establish some great friendships with some of the leading artists of our generation. These relationships, allows us access and the ability to exhibit within our gallery some of the finest art work available today.
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Tony on the Boat Sculpture.
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The Art House Gallery, 22 Bridge Street, Kelso. Five distinct galleries within one major gallery.
Ednam Primary School visit THH Education Initiative (breaking down barriers).
The Art House Gallery is located in a former dilapidated town house dating back to 1608, completely renovated in 2009 to form the 5 distinct galleries. The traditional feel you get from visiting the gallery is enhanced by both a state of the art computer generated lighting system backed up with an easy to use computer system for searching the web and the extensive gallery web site and database of art work. The Gallery ethos is to puts back into your own community working with Schools, colleges and volunteer organisations to bring access to art for all.
My Painting
Painting is a great way of communicating what I see and how I see it, painting in an honest simple way about what I feel about a subject or experience.
I try to recreate the way I saw things as a kid and indeed still do in the way I paint. Recording how every day folk went about their business and tried to make a difference, recording my personal journey through life and how family and friends shape us all.
I am often asked who or what inspires you, which trail blazing artist has given you direction or guidance? Well I am not sure how to answer that, like many other artists I have always known I just have to paint to record what I see, what I am looking at. I paint in a way that I remember as a youth, the colour and fun of life. Now as I travel through life I become aware of more artists, past and present and their work. I love most artists who have a go, a little different from the masses or the conventional. I try to keep community at the heart of my work where possible and bring in colour as much as possible to try to lift the spirit where you can.
Where possible I use bright bold colour and texture and a little nostalgia to produce work that can be serious and or compassionate, softening the miners’ journey to and from work, or the fisherman who goes out most days to catch and earn a living in sometimes very poor weather.
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Donating the painting “Yipee” to Life Span Charity.
Ideas and inspiration
Life arms me with all the images I need. I can be walking along and ‘POW’ – there is a great idea for a picture. I am always armed with a sketch book or camera and the idea is captured and stored until a picture is born. I paint in acrylics; I find these quick and forgiving and they allow me a great range of colours.
Like Norman Cornish, L.S. Lowry and Mackenzie Thorpe I take pride in what we had and how we were. I am lucky enough to have two studio’s, one in my home and as resident artist at the Art House Gallery one there. Both of these affords me space and freedom as I’m a complete clutter merchant, and disordered with it, props everywhere. I like it that way, a freedom from organisation.
A day in the life of
The Sleep Police (Yvonne) normally wakens me with a cuppa tea at around 7.00am, a quick bath then down to breakfast. After a light breakfast together, and going through commitments for the day I head into my studio which is my wonderfully disorganised but light and airy space to begin my painting day.
Normally I will have a canvas already primed and I go straight on with the image from my head. Mix some paint and then off we go, accompanied by CD’s or the radio. I do like Steve Wright and Chris Evans, they make me laugh.
I find inspiration for my drawings and painting can strike at any time, whether through response to things I have seen, or heard about. Sometimes I will hear a phrase spoken by friends or strangers and can immediately visualise a painting, sometimes I will get a story or poem or a title for a picture in my head and the inspirations comes that way.
When I have an idea for a new work I need to scribble it down wherever I am. I’m now getting better at carrying a sketch book wherever I go. But I still occasionally get caught out and beg, steel or borrow a pen or pencil and end up doodling on any scrap of paper which is handy. In my studio I have an old box file where I store photographs, sketches and doodles on all sorts of materials from scrap paper, old envelopes, name tags, even paper towels from La Favorita, my favourite pizzeria.
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When I come to start work on something new, I refer to my box file for inspiration, once I’m happy with which idea to run with then off we go.
The work now starts to flow and I can get caught up in the painting. This takes me through to at least lunchtime. Lunch is normally a quick snack, washed down with a mug of tea (I hate cups). This can be eaten in the company of one of my visiting fellow artist friends who pop by from time to time.
We chew the fat and have a laugh about what we are up to. Once they have gone I’ll push on with the painting until around 6.00pm. I try to get at least 50 hours a week painting, juggling this with the running of the gallery. Sometimes in the afternoons, around 3ish I’ll pop down to the gallery to meet with new or developing artists who want to show their work in the gallery.
Most evenings we will eat with suppliers, clients, collectors or artists colleagues in Kelso then head home. I normally finish around 10.00pm and relax on the sofa watching TV whilst replying to the days emails.
Bath and Bed by midnight, then off to dream of the next potential piece of work.
