Artist Danny Cawley has walked a rocky path during his life so far, but has at last found peace at his new studio, in Bollington
Danny Crawley grew up with what would now be diagnosed as dyslexia and ADHD, but in Danny’s case was seen to be poor behaviour, unwillingness to cooperate and a lack of academic effort.
“I think I was born an artist,” he says, “I had a rough childhood, my mum brought me up and she was an alcoholic, and I just found an escape in drawing. I loved drawing and was good at it; that was all I was interested in, and because of my chaotic childhood I just rebelled and got into the whole ‘sex, drugs and rock’n’roll’ scene.
“I was one of the first in Manchester to get into a graffiti gang, in the mid-80s, then I left art and went into music, trying to be a rock star. I left Manchester and moved to Brighton, when I really hit rock bottom. It was a huge problem, which led to me totally mucking up my life and my relationships and at 29 becoming homeless, and then I found AA and haven’t had any alcohol for 23 years.”
Danny headed back to Manchester and got back on his feet, working as a painter-decorator, while rediscovering his love of creating art.
“I was working as a painter-decorator and I just didn’t want to go near a brush and stand at an easel, so I developed a new way of putting down paint, ‘pour painting’. Everybody does it now, but it was very innovative when I started doing it in 2004. I learned very much through trial and error; I just wanted to throw the paint on and worked out my technique that way.”
It was during this period that, almost by accident, Danny found success in his work, by painting what became an iconic blue moon image, for pop star Badly Drawn Boy, Damon Gough.
“I was painting his house in 2011 and we got on really, really well. We’re both big Manchester City fans and the big Derby match was coming up. He’d been named by an ex-City player, Paul Lake, as one of his favourite musicians so I encouraged Damon to call Paul and ask if there was any chance of tickets for the match. Paul arranged for them straight away and we went along. I just had this feeling, I knew, this time was the time we won – and we did, 6-1. I told Damon: ‘If we win the League I’ll paint you a blue moon.’ And we did, so I did. I called it Blue Moon Rising and it really captured the attention of everyone who saw it.
“I had it printed on t-shirts and sold over 20,000 all over Manchester, and I started getting commissions to paint more. Each one is unique, of course, each one is an original. I still take commissions for these and have just finished my 80th commission.
“Then life all got a bit out of hand again, and I crashed and burned.”
This time it was substance abuse, rather than alcohol, that brought him down, and once again he fell to rock bottom, and in 2014 was again homeless.
“I lost another four years,” he says, “and yes, I regret it now, but a friend said that it’s part of my story, there’s nothing I can really do about it apart from doing some really positive stuff now. It helps to understand where it all comes from, I think. My childhood, with a violent environment, resulted in my living in a state of hypervigilance; I never switched off, I was always manic, my brain popping with ideas. I haven’t had an official diagnosis, but I have a friend with a son who has had an ADHD diagnosis and says we’re so similar, with so many of the same traits. It makes a lot of sense and it feels good to have an understanding of what actually is the issue. I now know how to switch off, to rest, and that I need to do that. I used to always to be going, always hyper, and then more hyper, and the alcohol and then the drugs were part of that. Now I meditate, and I walk, and I have my studio in Bollington.”
Danny might still be taking commissions for his iconic Blue Moon Rising paintings, but he’s also found space to create his own works, vibrant, dynamic pieces utilising his self-developed approach to putting paint on canvas.
“I lock the door, get some good coffee, switch off my phone and switch the music on. I lay down a canvas and then get in the flow and rhythm of the music and then I don’t really know what happens. It sounds pretentious by I get in a kind of shamanic zone. Like a dancer doesn’t really think about what they’re doing, or a footballer doesn’t think about how he puts the ball in the back of the net, that’s how it works for me, with paint. They don’t really think about it, they are it, and I try and do that.
“I use a whole mixture of stuff: gloss paint, acrylics, aerosols, tons of water, sand, tiny pebbles... I drop the paint on with chopsticks, I don’t use brushes other for painting a portrait or priming the canvas. I have developed very much my own approach; some of my techniques are totally secret to me.
“I’m mixing my styles a little bit more now. I wait till my canvasses are finished and then think about adding a portrait, which I only do with a few.’
“The Einstein portrait, for example, was actually quite a beautiful abstract, but it had this natural space, so I put a grid on, which I sometimes do with portraits, and then painted him and decided to leave the grid on with the numbers – and I think it looks pretty groovy.”
Danny credits a great deal of his current sense of peace with his decision to open a studio in Bollington.
“I moved into this studio in Adelphi Mill in February 2022. I wanted a 24-hour access studio and I wanted some quiet. I have a friend, Maxwell, who encouraged me to come here and I was resistant at first, but it’s perfect.
“I’m as Manc as it gets but I’m getting used to the leafy lanes of Cheshire,” he laughs.
“I’ve not had an exhibition since 2015 and at the moment I’m hoping to get enough canvasses together to mount a show in two years. Up till 2015 I’d sell about 40 a year, and sell out in my exhibitions, but right now I’m keeping my head down till I find my balance. I’ve just opened my studio and people can come and see my work and buy directly from me.
“I’m making a comeback.”
