The new solo show by Freddie Darke draws heavily on the painter’s south-east London roots. The truck-crammed A2 might seem an unlikely source of inspiration, but it happens to be - not only a portion of the ancient and historically rich Watling Street - but also a crossing point on Darke’s ritualistic morning walk, something that has become integral to the creative process. He describes a kind of ‘pyschological threshold’ at this seemingly unremarkable zone, a place where mundane thoughts of the everyday give way to more fantastical, creative musings. The famous Blackheath Tea Hut becomes a pit-stop for ghosts, Fellini-inspired troubadours and Chaucerian pilgrims. As we take in these diverse and ambitious paintings, there is an unfurling sense that his preoccupation with opposing forces – the stillness of familiar landmarks and solid roots, up against the drift and flow of continuous movement - is all stitched together with deeply personal reflections on the passage of time.

Victoria Comstock-Kershaw on Rumours of Treasure:

THE ONEIROMANCER OF URIZEN (excerpt)

In his essay The four-fold imagination, Mark Vernon discusses William Blake’s childhood vision of ‘a tree filled with angels, bright angelic wings bespangling every bough like stars’ on Peckham Rye, only minutes from Copeland Gallery. As an adult, Blake’s mythology would develop to explore the tension between man’s perception of the material and his own semiotic self-impositions of value: Ezekiel as Newton, crouched at the bottom of the ocean carving geometric shapes into the seabed, Adam tearing the sky in twain. Blake’s visceral, apocalyptic visions, argues Vernon, is one based on an ability to see “not with his eyes, but through them”: what we remove from our images, he says, is often what we most want to see.

Like Blake, Darke attempts to answer the question of how we tell stories when the subject is missing or moved from their expected optic plane. Rumours of Treasure is filled with hollow spaces, shadowed silhouettes, vacant voids, places where people and objects have and should be but are now gone. And yet they are far from empty: Dadaist dustbowls are transformed into locations of opportunity – flea markets, junkyards, landfills. These apocalyptic wunderkammern are overseen by guardians of taste; apostolistic figures searching constantly and carefully through discarded cabinets of curiosities. They simultaneously seek and salvage, rescuers and repurposers of the forgotten or forsaken.

The detritus in Darke’s paintings are idiograms removed from and of context. Their reading is left only to their audience. Picture frames, soft animals, blankets, televisions, briefcases – dual symbols of domesticity and displacement – are handled with synchronic care and curiosity by families, ghosts, nomads and drifters. These are people seeking answers for both past and present; picking like magpies for a narrative explanation of the state of their own surroundings. The tension between these figures' cognition of semiotic value and the material emptiness that surrounds them underscores a profound reversal of conventional systems of value – no longer grounded in the Real but in the imagined, the symbolic, the immediate and experiential.

All work © Freddie Darke 2026