Plaza Simón Bolívar

Pencil and chalk on brown paper

18” X 42” (45cm X 106cm)

SOLD

There are some monuments in Casco that are of exceptional quality. Not only for the quality of their design and execution, but I believe that one or two additionally have great artistic merit. In my view the finest of these is the monument celebrating Simón Bolívar.

This monument is colossal by Panama standards, its grand podium and steps along with the crescendo of stone plinths dominate the beautiful tree-lined plaza that also bares his name. But it is the bronze sculptural elements, plaques and reliefs that of which I am in awe. The figures are wonderfully bold and have loose energetic quality. They emerge from the organic rumpus of shapes  and put me in mind of Rodin’s Gates of Hell. The work is  joyful and expressive, it is not over finished and is yet crisp. it is an unreserved pleasure to take time to study and examine this wonderful work.

Preparatory Sketch, Plaza Simón Bolívar

Pencil and chalk on grey paper

8” X 12” (20cm X 12cm)

Plaza de Francia

Oil on linen

36” X 48” (91cm X 122cm)

SOLD

Plaza de Francia is perhaps the most striking place in all of Casco. It is situated at the end of the historic promontory and nestles amongst the original Spanish fortifications. The plaza is undoubtedly a bit of an architectural oddity, but I love it all the same. It is pleasant and peaceful and provides the most spectacular backdrop when the lighting is right. This dramatic, and very rare, lunchtime orange sky (probably caused by pollution but beautiful nevertheless) is cradled by the semi-circular arcade and bisected by the back- lit needle.

Iglesia San Francisco De Asis at Dawn After a Storm

Oil on linen

36” X 48” (91cm X 122cm)

SOLD

To me, the tower of the Iglesia San Francisco De Asis has represented homecoming since I first moved to Casco in 2006. In the early days of my residence, I travelled to and from England each month in order to maintain businesses in both Panama and the UK. Each time I returned, Plaza Bolivar would be my first port of call. Back then, Plaza Bolivar was the only restored square in Casco, picturesque and filled with restaurant tables bustling with local families, courting couples, foreign residents, as well as the occasional tourist. Those balmy evenings, sat at my usual table in the shadow of that tower watching the evening unfurl, are amongst my most cherished memories.

It was, however, not until the lock-down, that I witnessed my favourite tower in all its finery. During the early stages of the lock-down (when we were only permitted to go outside during a single allotted hour twice a week) I would take full advantage of my yard time and go walking between 6:00 and 7:00am. It was on one such morning, whilst sheltering from the rain under the canopy of the security guards hut outside the Teatro Nacional, that I saw the sun break through the blanket of heavy rain cloud left by the storm on the previous night, and strike the tower. It was like an epiphany. In the empty street I stood alone as the delicate tower glistened like ivory. I watched as the light ebbed its way over the church until the sun had completely washed through the street.

Angry Chair

Oil on linen

24” X 36” (61cm X 91cm)

SOLD

Ferrel cats fill every corner of the streets in Casco, many of them make their way into our homes and settle there. This is one such cat. She made her way into our home when she was just a few days old and has never left. You would think that she would show some gratitude for the benevolent opening of our home but the opposite is in fact true. Even by cat standards she is arrogant, fussy and grumpy.

This is the throne on which she sits when her anger surpasses its normal background levels. She lays coiled, not for comfort, but like a cobra ready to strike. The one extended paw has its claws partially exposed in readiness. Visitors to our home have had to be warned to stay away from her when she is on Angry Chair, many have ignored this advice and fallen foul of her wrath.

The Dog in the Corner

Oil on linen

22” X 30” (56cm X 76cm)

SOLD

During the restricted periods of the Covid lockdown there were just a handful of eateries that remained open in Casco. These few establishments provided me sucker beyond their wares, as they had also become my social oases, providing welcome respite from the isolation and monotony that had become life in Casco.

One such place is Vent de Saveurs, the boulangerie on Calle B, a small and refined purveyor of bread and fine French pastries. Inside the café, adjacent to the main seating area, is a small private internal courtyard that houses a couple of tables along with a menagerie of pets. My favourite amongst these is this Doberman Pinscher. She was always the first to greet me and when she has had her fill of petting would retire to the corner making sure to sit only on the black tiles.

El artista

Oil on linen

24” X 30” (61cm X 76cm)

SOLD

‘Chingui’ is somewhat of a local celebrity. There are not many homes in Casco that don’t have examples of his work, you are not really a casqueño unless you have a painting by Chingui. He draws and paints the things around him here in Casco as well as an array of imagined beasts and creatures. I have known Chingui for about thirteen years and in that time have found him to be kind, imaginative, hard working and enthusiastic. Perhaps it is precisely because of these qualities that he has earned the respect of both the local and new resident communities. Like many of us, he is not without his demons, but when he falters he always seems to have the fortitude to turn things back around.

Chingui is a local legend, if there was a San Felipe hall of fame he would be in it. Casco born and bred, he is the poster boy for moving with the times. As the streets around him changed he has changed with them, always seeking out new opportunities as well as courting new patrons. For me, he is as intrinsic a part of this neighborhood as any building.

Preparatory Sketch, Chain on Hydrant

Pencil and chalk on grey paper

8” X 12” (20cm X 12cm)

Preparatory Sketch, Chain on Doors

Pencil and chalk on grey paper

8” X 12” (20cm X 12cm)

El pugilista

Oil on linen

24” X 30” (61cm X 76cm)

SOLD

Anthony parks cars in my street as well as enthusiastically doing odd jobs. He mostly resides in the derelict clinic next door to my apartment building on Calle Victoriano Lorenzo. However, his well developed physique and buckled nose offer strong clues to his more illustrious past. He was once a celebrated athlete and won two Panamanian national boxing titles in 1996 and 1998. In his day he was well respected and enjoyed many of the trappings that go along with such success.

It is almost impossible to see the division between the party stopping and dependency starting until you are looking at that line in a mirror. But drugs and alcohol do often feature heavily in many such downfalls. His story is not an uncommon one and one that is certainly familiar to me. I have depicted Anthony trapped by the bonds of his addiction, forging new links for his chain each time he uses. As the crippling weight of his chain increases, so does the incessant torture of his remorse. Addiction is depressingly commonplace here. I suppose these people are the inevitable collateral damage of a district who’s local economy is largely based upon the supply of drugs.

Preparatory Sketch, Homeless Man

Pencil and chalk on grey paper

8” X 12” (20cm X 12cm)

Homeless Man in the Shadow of a Tree

Oil on linen

24” X 36” (61cm X 91cm)

SOLD

From the first moment I clapped eyes on him. His bulbous features and wild straggling hair and beard make him look as if he has walked here straight out of the pages of a Tolkien novel. My opportunity came on the third occasion that I saw him, the first couple of times were in passing on busy streets and provided no opportunity for an approach. This time though, he was seated eating lunch in the shade of a tree on the vacant lot just outside my apartment. I produced quite a few sketches and paintings of this man, but of all of these pictures, this is my favourite as it captures that first moment he looked up at me from the shadows.

Preparatory Sketch, El vagabundo

Pencil and chalk on grey paper

8” X 12” (20cm X 12cm)

El vagabundo

Oil on linen

24” X 30” (61cm X 76cm)

SOLD

This man, who’s name I regret I do not know, was for a time hanging around the vacant lot opposite my apartment. I could never quite put my finger on exactly what it was, but there was something special about him. I had only seen him a few times before but on each occasion my attention had been very much drawn to him. He has an uncommonly kind, lively and intelligent face as well as a very quiet and deliberate manner. He showed no obvious outward signs of nefarious habits of any kind. He was, as far as I could tell, a tramp by choice.

He was indeed completely unlike the usual feral individuals that hang around in my street parking cars or the drug addled addicts that populate the abandoned buildings and back streets. Indeed, when I offered him money in exchange for sitting for me, he refused to take it and explained that he already had everything that he needed. I wish I would have got more of his story in our brief meeting. I just know he came from Peru, but I had imagined that I would chat with him again later and maybe show him my sketches and paintings. But as it turns out it was not to be, and this was the last occasion on which I saw him.

Preparatory Sketch, El alcalde

Pencil and chalk on grey paper

8” X 12” (20cm X 12cm)

El alcalde

Oil on linen

24” X 30” (61cm X 76cm)

SOLD

Back in the 70s and 80s, well before even the faintest inklings of gentrification could be sensed, the disused American Trade building, now the American Trade Hotel, was the hub of organized crime in Casco. It housed around seventy people heavily involved in everything from petty theft and prostitution to racketeering and drug trafficking. The building, then the tallest in Casco, was a veritable maze of stone and concrete, had excellent site lines and was highly defensible, so much so in fact that this was their fortress headquarters for more than two decades.

The de facto head of this syndicate was a brilliant and ruthless gangster by the name of Scott, known locally as ‘El alcalde’. I first met Scott around four years ago through his son (also called Scott), who’s car I had hit in a car park and we later became friends. I invited Scott and his son to dine with me and my son at the American Trade Hotel soon after it opened. It was the first time Scott had been back in the building since the early 90s, but his effortless charm and commanding manner with the restaurant staff soon established him as firmly back in control. I spent an enthralling and educational evening enjoying a meal and listening to the old and frankly unrepeatable stories about those dark and violent times.

Dark as those times were, they are fascinating and an intrinsic part of the patchwork of Panama’s past. I wanted to record Scott, now 86 years old and in failing health, outside the American Trade or ‘Castilla Grayskull’ as it was known to them, a last link to those almost forgotten times in this age of great change.