Desmond Morris became a household name in 1967 after the publication of his book, The Naked Ape: A Zoologist’s Study of the Human Animal, and its sequel, The Human Zoo. A prominent and popular scientist, writer and presenter in the fields of zoology, ethnology and human sociobiology, he has written or edited over 100 books, based not only on his scientific study but also on art.
As a painter, he has a significant role as one of the last surviving members of the Surrealist movement. In 1950 his painting were shown alongside those of Joan Miró in London, and 75 years later he is exhibiting in Oxford, his home for many years before moving to Ireland in 2019 to be nearer to his son.
Your current exhibition at Ronapainting Gallery is entitled Micro-surrealism. Can you tell us about it?
The centrepiece of my new exhibition at Rona’s Gallery in Oxford is made up of a group of very small paintings, which is why the show is called Micro-surrealism. The paintings, like all my artwork since 1947, have been concerned with the creation of a private world of biomorphic beings – influenced by my career as a zoologist, but avoiding any direct copying of known animals or plants. My biological knowledge underlies the images, but I always try to invent new beings that have never existed before.
The paintings are not only very small, but also all have slightly different frames. My daughter-in-law runs a charity shop here in Ireland, raising funds to help the local animal sanctuary, and she gets small frames brought into the shop for sale. When I discovered this, I started buying them and made very small pictures to fit into them.
I am not the first surrealist to make very small works, because many years ago Max Ernst decided to rebel against the “tyranny of large works of art” and began making a series of minute pictures some of which were smaller than a postage stamp. He was objecting to the fact that art galleries charge more for larger works, and he made the point that the size of a picture should never influence its significance or its value.
These tiny works that I have been producing in the last couple of years have proved to be very popular and nearly all of the ones that I have exhibited have been sold. When I sent 31 of them to Rona for the present show, an American collector wanted to buy the whole lot. Rona allowed him to have 21 of them but kept a few for her other collectors. If these are not sold, the American will take anything that is left, so the entire show of Micro-surrealism has sold out even before the exhibition is opened officially.
How does an artist’s relationship with their gallerist work?
I’ve been very lucky with my art galleries in the past. For many years, I was with the Mayor Gallery in London. Then I had a long period with the Taurus Gallery in Oxford until that closed, and now I am with Rona at her splendid gallery in Walton Street. Now that I’m living in Ireland, I have opened an Art Institute here, called DIVA, the Dun Laoghaire Institute for Visual Arts, and I hold exhibitions there as well.
For many, Scientist and Artist seem diametrically opposed. Which is most fundamental to your sense of self, and how do the two interact?
I’ve lived a double life as a scientist and an artist – a zoologist and a surrealist – and these involve two completely different kinds of mental process. Science is making the simple out of the complicated. Art is making the extraordinary out of the ordinary. The scientist starts out with something incredibly complex and tries to explain it in simple terms, the artist starts out with something incredibly simple, such as a few tubes of paint, and then transforms these simple things into a complex work of art. (The Mona Lisa started out as just a few pigments.) When I move from my study, where I write my books, to my studio, where I paint my pictures, I change my way of thinking completely. Each activity gives me relief from the pressures of the other one.
I understand you paint at night; why is this?
I write in my study in the evening and then at midnight I move into my studio and paint there until 4 am. I have been doing this for years now, and it suits my temperament because my brain comes to life at night when everything is still and quiet and there are no interruptions. Some people are better in the morning, but I take a long time to wake up properly and my brain gets steadily better during the day, so it is at its peak in the small hours, when I am completely on my own, disappearing into my private visual world.
With science in mind, have you ever been tempted to revisit your seminal work, The Naked Ape (1967) through a contemporary lens?
No, when The Naked Ape celebrated its 50th anniversary recently, I was asked if I wanted to alter it in any way and I said I only needed to make one small change, and that was to alter the figure for the human global population, which has doubled since I wrote the book.
How do you rate human evolution in the digital age?
We are experiencing a population explosion of the human species – it is an explosion that will eventually destroy the planet if we do not find some way of controlling it. If each couple only had two children, there would be no problem because they would simply replace themselves and the population would show no further increase. But, in parts of the world, large families are thought of as important, and this is the cause of the problem.
Having had an astonishingly prolific career in both art and science, is there anything you still feel impelled to share?
I’m surprised to still be here at the age of 97, but I think what keeps me going is the fact that I still have so many questions that I want to answer. My brain is still sharp, but unfortunately the rest of my body is beginning to give up the struggle. But I would rather have it that way round. I remember a friend of mine in Oxford called Iris Murdoch, a wonderful novelist, whose body was still in a good shape, but whose brain had gone. I’m so lucky that this has not happened to me.
Finally, I have to ask, how did you feel when Oxford United were promoted last year, and do you ever have the chance to see them play?
The Oxford United logo of a bull’s head is based on a painting that I did when I was a Director of the club, and it always makes me proud to see that image of mine floating above Wembley Stadium. My son took all his children to see the game in which we were promoted to the Championship, and I watched it on my television screen at home.
I still watch their matches whenever I get a chance. Of course, when I was on the Board of Directors of Oxford United, we were promoted to the First Division, which is now the Premiership, and I have vivid memories of watching us play clubs like Manchester United and Liverpool. Those were the days. It is strange how powerful the emotional attachment is to your local football club. Someone once said you can change your partner several times in your life, but you can never change your club.
Desmond Morris, Micro-surrealism
ronapainting gallery, 34 Walton Street, Oxford OX2 6AA
info@ronapainting.com
