The Seven Deadly Sins Collection

Seven Paintings. Seven Virtues. Seven Questions About Being Human.

YOU KNOW THE SEVEN DEADLY SINS.
BUT DO YOU REALLY KNOW WHAT MAKES THEM SINFUL?

For more than twenty years, I have returned again and again to the Seven Deadly Sins.

Pride. Envy. Greed. Gluttony. Lust. Sloth. Wrath.

They have appeared throughout my work in different forms, from The House of Sin and Virtue and The Carnival of Sin to Dante's Inferno and my mischievous Sinful Fairies.

But I wasn't finished with them.

If anything, the older I became, the more interesting they became.

After years of observing people, society and myself, I began to wonder whether these seven ancient sins were really as simple as we pretend they are.

What actually makes us sinners?

Is Pride wrong if we've earned the right to feel proud?

Can Envy push us towards something better?

When does wanting more become Greed?

When does pleasure become Gluttony?

Is desire itself Lust—or is it what we choose to do with that desire?

Is Sloth simply laziness?

And how much can a person endure before Anger becomes Wrath?

Then I turned towards their supposed opposites—the Seven Heavenly Virtues—and another set of questions appeared.

What if virtue isn't always virtuous?

Can Kindness become controlling?

Can Charity become self-serving?

Can Temperance become destructive?

Can Chastity hide the very desires it claims to reject?

Can Diligence become exploitation?

Can Humility become another way of seeking attention?

And what happens when Patience finally runs out?

Suddenly I wasn't painting seven sins and seven virtues.

I was painting human behaviour.

And that became far more interesting.

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One Painting Feeds Another

Although there are seven paintings in this collection, I didn't create them as seven separate worlds.

Over the three years I worked on them, one painting constantly fed another.

I might add another layer to one and suddenly feel that I understood its Sin more clearly. I would carry that same energy into the next painting.

Sometimes it worked in reverse.

A composition I felt completely comfortable with could help me understand what was missing from one I was struggling with. Something I discovered while painting one Sin could make me return to another and question a decision I had already made.

Gradually, the seven paintings began talking to each other.

I wanted the same raw energy to flow through all of them—not simply through recurring imagery and symbolism, but through the way I was thinking and feeling while I painted.

And I think a lot while I paint.

Sometimes I'm thinking about the work directly in front of me.

Sometimes I'm talking to myself.

Sometimes my mind has wandered into something happening in my everyday life—a frustration, an experience, a memory, an injustice or simply something that doesn't sit comfortably with me.

I let it unravel.

Rather than separating those thoughts from the work, I allow them into the painting.

I make connections between what I'm feeling and the Sin in front of me. I try to look at those feelings through its eyes.

I question the Sin.

I challenge it.

Sometimes I deliberately provoke it.

Are you really sinful?

When do you become sinful?

What would make me behave like you?

Where do you already exist within me?

And perhaps most uncomfortably:

What excuses do we make for you when we recognise you in ourselves?

That internal conversation became part of the rich underbelly of these paintings.

And something happened during those three years that I hadn't fully anticipated.

The paintings began teaching me about the Sins.

I hadn't arrived with seven definitive answers that I simply needed to illustrate. Painting them was part of how I came to understand what they meant to me.

As one developed, it changed how I approached another. A visual language began passing between them. Ideas became stronger. Others were rejected. Elements moved. Compositions changed. And my understanding of sin, virtue and the enormous grey area between them became deeper.

So these seven paintings aren't simply connected because they belong to the same collection.

They grew together.

And in many ways, they taught me what I was trying to paint.

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Which Sinner Are You?

I don't want to give you all the answers here.

This page is where I want you to look and question.

The individual Creation Galleries take you through the paintings as they were created, layer by layer, revealing how the imagery and my thinking developed along the way.

The Artist Journals take you deeper into what each finished work ultimately came to mean.

But first, look.

See what you notice.

Decide what you think is happening.

Then go deeper.

You may agree with me.

You may think I'm completely wrong.

Both are allowed.

Perhaps when you return to the painting afterwards, you'll see something you didn't see before.

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PRIDE

When does being proud of yourself become needing everybody else to admire you?

Is Pride confidence?

Ego?

Vanity?

Or does it only become dangerous when our sense of worth depends upon somebody else looking up at us?

And what of Humility?

Can somebody make such a performance of being humble that Humility quietly becomes another form of Pride?

Who is really looking into the mirror.

Enter the Pride Creation Gallery and Artist Journal and look behind the reflection.

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ENVY

Have you ever wanted what somebody else has?

I have.

Does that make us envious?

And is Envy necessarily destructive if seeing somebody else's success makes us work harder towards our own?

Perhaps the real question is what happens when:

I wish I had that

becomes:

I wish you didn't.

And why, in my painting, is Envy trying to wear somebody else's skin?

Enter the Envy Creation Gallery and Artist Journal and discover what lies beneath the mask.

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GREED

How much is enough?

One house?

Five?

A hundred million pounds?

A billion?

At what point does having enough become wanting more simply because more exists?

And if enormous wealth is accumulated while a little is publicly given back, does Charity balance Greed?

Or can Charity itself become part of the performance?

Perhaps the strangest question is this:

What—or who—is underneath the ladder we climb?

Enter the Greed Creation Gallery and Artist Journal and discover what the city is really standing upon.

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GLUTTONY

When does enjoying something become consuming too much of it?

Food.

Alcohol.

Possessions.

Resources.

Technology.

Comfort.

We usually think of Gluttony as overeating.

But what happens when an entire society develops an appetite that can never be satisfied?

And if Gluttony represents too much, surely Temperance must be the answer.

Mustn't it?

What happens when restraint goes too far?

Enter the Gluttony Creation Gallery and Artist Journal and take a closer look at what is being consumed.

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LUST

Is desire a sin?

Surely not.

So when does desire become Lust?

Is it the wanting?

The looking?

The fantasy?

Or does the boundary appear when satisfying our desire becomes more important than the consequences for somebody else?

And if Chastity refuses to act upon desire, has the desire actually disappeared?

Can something be virtuous simply because it remains hidden?

Enter the Lust Creation Gallery and Artist Journal—but be prepared. This is one of the darker places in the collection.

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SLOTH

Is doing nothing always lazy?

Of course not.

We need rest.

We need days when we stop.

So when does rest become Sloth?

What happens when doing nothing becomes a way of life?

And what if somebody becomes extremely clever at ensuring other people do the work for them?

Surely Diligence is the answer.

But what happens when the person willing to work hard discovers that everybody else is quite happy to let them?

One does nothing.

The other never stops.

Which one is actually free?

Enter the Sloth Creation Gallery and Artist Journal and ask yourself what your time is worth.

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WRATH

How angry are you allowed to become before your anger becomes a sin?

What if somebody hurt you?

What if you were betrayed?

Ignored?

Humiliated?

Exploited?

What if you were patient the first time?

And the second?

And the tenth?

Does Wrath begin with the explosion—or was it being created quietly long before that?

And if Patience is a virtue:

How much should we reasonably expect Patience to endure?

Enter the Wrath Creation Gallery and Artist Journal and discover what happens when Patience finally breaks.

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Look. Question. Then Read.

Now you've met the seven sinners, I invite you to get closer.

There are Devils and punishments.

Crosses turned upright and upside down.

Political reds and blues.

Tax.

Pandora's Box.

Idioms made flesh.

Cities and cages.

Masks and mirrors.

Eden.

And a white dove that appears again and again.

Nothing is there simply to fill a space.

There is a reason for it.

But don't rush to discover mine.

Look at the paintings first.

What do you see?

What do you think the symbols mean?

What makes you uncomfortable?

What makes you laugh?

What do you recognise?

And perhaps most interestingly:

What do you recognise in yourself?

Then explore the Creation Galleries.

Watch the paintings develop layer by layer and see how the original ideas changed as I painted, questioned and sometimes completely reconsidered where a work was going.

You'll see decisions that disappeared beneath later layers—the changing composition of Envy, the search for the face of Lust, the developing energy of Wrath and all those moments when one painting taught me something that found its way into another.

Then read the Artist Journals.

That is where I take the finished paintings apart.

Discover my reasoning, my experiences, my anger, my humour and occasionally my own uncomfortable recognition of the sinner staring back at me.

Afterwards, return to the painting.

Does it look different now?

You still don't have to like it.

That isn't my aim.

My hope is that these pages encourage you to look beyond the surface—not only of my work, but of art in general.

Because the next time you encounter a painting, sculpture or installation and your immediate reaction is:

I don't like that.

Perhaps you'll stop for another moment and ask:

Why did the artist make it?

And suddenly you're no longer simply looking at art.

You're reading it.