No modern artist, not even the likes of Damien Hirst or Tracey Emin¹, divides opinion like Jack Vettriano. It seems that the public cannot get enough of his work: it is estimated that he makes over £200,000 every year from posters and prints of his work, and celebrities such as Jack Nicholson, Robbie Coltrane and Terence Conran queue up to buy his work and sing his praises. The critical establishment, on the other hand, is less enthusiastic - prominent critics have described his work as 'soft porn', dismissing it with comments such as, 'he's welcome to paint, as long as nobody takes him seriously'. Is this merely snobbery and fear in action, or do the critics have a valid point?

From Miner to Artist

Vettriano was born in 1951 in Methil, Fife, on the east coast of Scotland, just north of Edinburgh². Like most young men of that era, he left school at 16 to work in the local coalfields, although Vettriano himself is quick to point out that images of him 'lying on his side hewing coal is bloody nonsense'. Vettriano trained and worked as an engineer, before going on to work at the personnel department at the colliery. Eventually he moved on to a job with Manpower Services Commission, a government agency dealing with technical education. He married, bought a house, settled down. In 1988, at the age of 37, he sold two paintings at a Royal Scottish Academy exhibition, changing his life irrevocably - his marriage broke down under the pressure of his ambition, he quit his job, moved across the Firth of Forth to Edinburgh, and changed his name.

As a young man, Vettriano was a frequent visitor to the nearby art gallery in the town of Kirkcaldy. Inspired by the works he saw there, and by the gift of a watercolour set, he set about copying the works of old masters - especially Van Gogh and the Impressionists. Without the benefit of formal training, he slowly taught himself how to paint - an application to Edinburgh Art College was rejected without explanation. It took him almost twenty years to get from his first daubings to the sale of his first paintings.

A rich man's pornography or 'Wasted Elegance'?

Jack Vettriano is a hugely successful artist in commercial terms. His originals sell for thousands of pounds, often to high profile buyers. But it's the posters and prints that really make money - his most famous painting, The Singing Butler, sells more posters in the UK than any other work of art, including the more critically acclaimed works of artists such as Van Gogh. Runner-up in the poster sales chart is a similar Vettriano work: Mad Dogs. He has enjoyed similar success around the world, especially in Japan and the US. The problem with such success, is that artists are supposed to struggle, their talents unrecognised by the world until they are dead or insane. Vettriano's refusal to follow this tradition has resulted in sneering comments from the arts establishment in Scotland.

Typical of his detractors is Duncan MacMillan, Professor of Scottish Art History at the University of Edinburgh, who has described Vettriano's work as 'dim erotica'. Professer McMillan's book, Scottish Art 1460-2000, grudgingly gives up one paragraph to mention Vettriano, and there is no room for any of his work amongst the 370 images chronicling the period. Sandy Moffat, who is McMillan's equivalent at the Glasgow School of Art, describes Vettriano's work as 'badly conceived soft-porn'³. Other prominent critics have described his paintings as 'flat', 'soulless', 'no more than colouring in' and derivative of Edward Hopper⁴. The money and success must soften the blow a least a little, but it is clear that Vettriano craves acceptance by the art establishment. 'Show me the artist,' he has said, 'who does not want to be recognised by his peers and I will show you a liar.'

Although Vettriano's supporters in the art world are few and and far between, he has his share of celebrity fans. As well as the famous collectors of his work, such as Jack Nicholson, respected people in other fields of the arts have leapt to his defence. Author AL Kennedy has described his critics as 'idiots', claiming jealousy as the reason for their ire. Also, the curator of Kirkcaldy Art Gallery, who have had the favour returned for inspiring young Jack Hoggan⁵, has described Vettriano as 'a very significant artist of the moment'.

It's impossible to tell if time will be kinder on Jack Vettriano than the Scottish art establishment - perhaps his work will be as highly regarded a hundred years from now as Van Gogh's or Rembrandt's is now. Possibly it will be forgotten, as the works of artists who struggle penniless now are discovered and held up as masterpieces. But the present ridicule of Vettriano, which has caused him to abandon Scotland for London, is perhaps a shameful indication of how Scotland treats her success stories and self-made men.