Frank Brennan

Irish Artist in London

My work explores what lies beneath the surface—where memory, identity and imagination meet.

 

Origins & Early Work

I’m an Irish artist based in London, where I’ve lived for nearly half a century. My first creative home was the theatre—working as a director, actor, designer, and maker. For many years, I told stories through space, character, and performance.

Fifteen years ago, I gave myself a private challenge: could I paint a photorealistic portrait? Three months later, I completed Petr—a painting I remain proud of. That quiet challenge became the heart of my artistic life.

Frank Brennan

Irish Artist in London

My work explores what lies beneath the surface—where memory, identity and imagination meet.

 

Origins & Early Work

I’m an Irish artist based in London, where I’ve lived for nearly half a century. My first creative home was the theatre—working as a director, actor, designer, and maker. For many years, I told stories through space, character, and performance.

Fifteen years ago, I gave myself a private challenge: could I paint a photorealistic portrait? Three months later, I completed Petr—a painting I remain proud of. That quiet challenge became the heart of my artistic life.

A Turning Point

Over time, my painting evolved from personal exploration to public expression.

What began as a private discipline—working through emotion, memory, and experience—shifted as the world changed. The rise of populism, authoritarianism, and historical amnesia left me with a deepening sense of foreboding, a recognition that echoes of the 1930s were returning.

Rather than retreat, I chose to respond with paint.

That decision gave rise to Responding to the Darkness Descending—a series that meets fragmentation with form, and fear with colour, light, and life.

This shiftfrom inward reflection to outward engagementfundamentally changed my practice.

A Turning Point

Over time, my painting evolved from personal exploration to public expression.

What began as a private discipline—working through emotion, memory, and experience—shifted as the world changed. The rise of populism, authoritarianism, and historical amnesia left me with a deepening sense of foreboding, a recognition that echoes of the 1930s were returning.

Rather than retreat, I chose to respond with paint.

That decision gave rise to Responding to the Darkness Descending—a series that meets fragmentation with form, and fear with colour, light, and life.

This shiftfrom inward reflection to outward engagementfundamentally changed my practice.

Working with Place and Material

I now create in series, on a larger scale, and with a greater openness to theme, risk, and material.

Much of my work is shaped by a desire to paint in and with the landscapes that move me—the granite and peat of the west of Ireland, the mountains of Spain and Mexico, the snows of the north, the stillness of the Sahara.

I imagine grinding stone into pigment, embedding earth into surface, and making paintings that carry the energy of the land itself.

This curiosity has led me back to sculpture. Fionnuala—a carved pearwood figure inspired by the Irish myth of the Children of Lir—emerged, unexpectedly, as a disguised self-portrait. A meditation on migration and return, it helped me reconnect with a long-buried Irish identity.

Working with Place and Material

I now create in series, on a larger scale, and with a greater openness to theme, risk, and material.

Much of my work is shaped by a desire to paint in and with the landscapes that move me—the granite and peat of the west of Ireland, the mountains of Spain and Mexico, the snows of the north, the stillness of the Sahara.

I imagine grinding stone into pigment, embedding earth into surface, and making paintings that carry the energy of the land itself.

This curiosity has led me back to sculpture. Fionnuala—a carved pearwood figure inspired by the Irish myth of the Children of Lir—emerged, unexpectedly, as a disguised self-portrait. A meditation on migration and return, it helped me reconnect with a long-buried Irish identity.

Craft and Credibility

For me, craft is not a sideline—it’s central to the integrity of the work.

For years, I’ve attended the framing workshop at the Macbeth Centre in Hammersmith, where I continue to frame many of my own paintings. The workshop offers access to professional tools, a supportive community, and the expertise of the excellent tutor, Sean Turner.

My framing has won First Prize three years running at the Centre’s annual Arts & Crafts Summer Exhibition—most recently for But the Blink, a painting whose charred frame echoed both prehistoric cave art and carbon’s elemental role in life’s origins.

This hands-on approach—shaping not only the image but also its physical presentation—grounds my practice in skill, independence, and care.

I am also a proud member of the Visual Artists Association, a leading UK organisation supporting visual artists’ professional development and credibility.

Craft and Credibility

For me, craft is not a sideline—it’s central to the integrity of the work.

For years, I’ve attended the framing workshop at the Macbeth Centre in Hammersmith, where I continue to frame many of my own paintings. The workshop offers access to professional tools, a supportive community, and the expertise of the excellent tutor, Sean Turner.

My framing has won First Prize three years running at the Centre’s annual Arts & Crafts Summer Exhibition—most recently for But the Blink, a painting whose charred frame echoed both prehistoric cave art and carbon’s elemental role in life’s origins.

This hands-on approach—shaping not only the image but also its physical presentation—grounds my practice in skill, independence, and care.

I am also a proud member of the Visual Artists Association, a leading UK organisation supporting visual artists’ professional development and credibility.

What Drives the Work

My influences aren’t academic—they’re lived.

I draw from mythology, history, science, politics, and the invisible threads that shape experience. When I paint a person, I’m searching for presence. When I paint a place or an idea, I’m trying to feel its weight.

My background in theatre still echoes in the studio. In portraiture especially, I work like an actor seeking a character—through gesture, layer, and attention to the eyes. That same instinct for emotional resonance runs through my abstract and myth-inspired pieces.

Ultimately, my work is about finding form for what lies beneath the surface—and offering something that moves others to feel, reflect, or remember.

These ideas are explored across several bodies of work:

Wanderlust reflects the people and places that have shaped me during my travels.

Shadowlands responds to themes of migration, loss, and belonging.

Genesis pushes the boundaries of material and technique in search of something elemental.

Each series offers a different lens—but all are rooted in the search for emotional truth.

What Drives the Work

My influences aren’t academic—they’re lived.

I draw from mythology, history, science, politics, and the invisible threads that shape experience. When I paint a person, I’m searching for presence. When I paint a place or an idea, I’m trying to feel its weight.

My background in theatre still echoes in the studio. In portraiture especially, I work like an actor seeking a character—through gesture, layer, and attention to the eyes. That same instinct for emotional resonance runs through my abstract and myth-inspired pieces.

Ultimately, my work is about finding form for what lies beneath the surface—and offering something that moves others to feel, reflect, or remember.

 

These ideas are explored across several bodies of work:

Wanderlust reflects the people and places that have shaped me during my travels.

Shadowlands responds to themes of migration, loss, and belonging.

Genesis pushes the boundaries of material and technique in search of something elemental.

Each series offers a different lens—but all are rooted in the search for emotional truth.

What Comes Next

I want to create exhibitions that resonate like performances—visually, emotionally, and viscerally.

The work is changing. I’m thinking bigger, both in scale and ambition. I want to take it to new places—literally and metaphorically. Whether in the west of Ireland, the mountains of Spain, or elsewhere in the world, I want to paint with local materials, draw from the land, and create pieces that carry the energy of place.

To do that, I need to build relationships—with curators, collectors, and institutions who believe in the value of deep work and long commitment.

It’s not just about making more paintings—it’s about creating a body of work that stands for something, and finding the people who will help bring it fully into the world.

What Comes Next

I want to create exhibitions that resonate like performances—visually, emotionally, and viscerally.

The work is changing. I’m thinking bigger, both in scale and ambition. I want to take it to new places—literally and metaphorically. Whether in the west of Ireland, the mountains of Spain, or elsewhere in the world, I want to paint with local materials, draw from the land, and create pieces that carry the energy of place.

To do that, I need to build relationships—with curators, collectors, and institutions who believe in the value of deep work and long commitment.

It’s not just about making more paintings—it’s about creating a body of work that stands for something, and finding the people who will help bring it fully into the world.