Nevill Johnson: Paint the smell of grass - Eoin O'Brien

140 Nevill Johnson l Paint the Smell of Grass
All very welcome.
It is time to tell a story. To tell
it as it was.
John Luke, artist, lived in a
brick terrace house near the
Belfast docks. His father lay
in the front parlour a froth of
spittle on his lips.
Dead he was and waiting
for the box.
John had managed to reach the
Slade where he sat at the feet
of Mr. Tonks.
He lived content
fine skinned
chopping twigs
defining his virginity
with gesso and yoke
of the unborn pecker
and Terre Verte
he built his sexless
Valhallas.
On my last meeting with Nevill some days before he died he looked from me standing at his
bedside to the catheter draining him like an hour-glass that would alas never be inverted, and with
eyes of sadness, sadness in the realization that his time had passed and mine not quite so, we
parted on a quote from the Book of Samuel: “How are the mighty fallen and the weapons of war
perished.”
Works consulted by all authors:
Johnson Nevill, Dublin: The People’s City 1952–3, The Academy Press, Dublin. 1981
Johnson Nevill. The Other Side of Six: an autobiography. The Academy Press. Dublin. 1983.
Johnson Nevill. The Wilby Diary. Unpublished. Johnson Literary Estate.
Johnson Nevill. Goonstone. Unpublished. Johnson Literary Estate.
Johnson Nevill. Tractatus Pudicus. Unpublished. Johnson Literary Estate.
Johnson Nevill. Exhibitions catalogues and mote books. Unpublished. Johnson Literary Estate.
O’Brien E. “Paint the smell of grass” Nevill Johnson (1911–1999). The Recorder. Journal of the
American Irish Historical Society. 2001;14:61-70
A Personal Memoir l Eoin O’Brien 141