Artist, DART driver, rapid recounter of tales, Dubliner Des Kenny exudes enthusiasm as he walks among his grey and blue depictions of life in the underbelly of the Celtic Tiger.
His oil paintings are so thickly layered that the largest take up to seven years to fully dry out. "I was a very technical painter. Then I went to Paris for a week, and discovered Rodin. There was a lumpy quality to his early work. I wanted to do that. I was walking around Hartstown [the Dublin suburb where he lives] and saw two women talking to each other. One of the women was eight - no, nine - months pregnant, a very low carriage. I knew then what I had to do: paint as thick as that women's stomach was thick with life."
The paintings are tactile, the thick, rough brush-strokes inviting the fingers to rub and touch. "Kids are going to love these. They can't help themselves, they go around picking pieces off the edges," he says happily.
The scenes - Smithfield horse market, Cumberland Street "rubbish" market, Moore Street fruit and vegetable stalls, and a series of drug addicts, down-and-outs, derelicts - reflect Kenny's sense of a people dispossessed and marginalised among corporate high-rises and posh apartment buildings they can't afford to live in.
"It's not a political thing, although City Arts Centre [where Kenny's new exhibition will run] is an issue-based venue. People can't afford accommodation - that's one of the effects of the Celtic Tiger. There's more people with walking aids and in wheelchairs because they can't get hip operations . . . I just paint what I see . . ."
We're standing in front of his favourite picture, in which an old woman, bundled up in a heavy winter coat, be-hatted and shod in runners, pushes an old man in a buggy, while holding an umbrella aloft. "It's about love. Her husband has Parkinson's. She takes him out for fresh air, no matter what the weather. Her feet probably swell, so she wears the runners. When you get to that age, the sex thing has gone. This is compassion, love. She'll take him to the pub, even though he's dribbling. He'll just have the one or else he'll soil his pants."
Kenny started painting 14 years ago, when, aged 30, he was in and out of hospital and out of work for about five months. When he was hospitalised, he asked his wife to bring him a sketch pad and pen. "I drew from seven, when the lights went on, until 12 at night when they went out. It was like a dam burst."
Lucy was supportive and remains so, despite his prolonged absence: Kenny leaves their home in Hartstown at 9 a.m. each day, going to paint in his studio in lower Sheriff Street. ("Terrible conditions, but getting sorted. Better than the last studio in Foley Street where it was so cold I wore four jumpers, three pairs of trousers, two pairs of socks, gloves and a hat. There was no point in putting on the heater as it only warmed the seagulls.") After spending time in his studio, it's on to work with Iarnrod Eireann at 4 p.m., and back home at 1 a.m.
He has worked with CIE for 21 years. It's just a day job, he says, but he speaks with strong affection about his colleagues, who often form the subject of his paintings. The intertwining of his two jobs is almost caricatured in his appearance: the formality of his green V-neck Iarnrod Eireann jumper, and grey uniform trousers, offset by the cropped hair and the long, thin plait snaking down his neck.
Kenny grew up in Ballybough, went to the North Strand Tech, and got a job afterwards, as the money was needed. He describes himself as a self-taught artist. "I did art in school. I was always drawing, filling up notepads." He used to give the drawings away to girlfriends. He grins, a mischevious look in his eyes, as he says: "they used to think it was romantic".
The exhibition at the City Arts Centre is a major coup. He has been trying to break in for 10 years - lots of exhibitions "down the country" but difficult to get in Dublin. Networking while working in a group studio (Pallas studio now has 18 artists) was the key to his success, he says. This exhibition comprises a series of grim drawings in graphite, some stark linocuts and a series of vivid oil paintings.
Contradicting his avowed apolitical stance, Kenny concludes: "Human beings are more important than buildings. Sometimes the city fathers forget that. Art should remind us about things like that . . . This is not a sad show. Even though it can be terribly hard, it's still about life, about hope. People should walk out and go to Bewleys for a coffee, and maybe go down Moore Street and, for the first time, open their eyes and see their city."
Desmond Kenny: Dublin runs at the City Arts Centre, Moss Street, Dublin from April 6th to April 27th
