A new start after 60: âI started sketching at 72 â and graduated with a fine art degree at 96â
A rchie White says he would like to retire, but Iâm not sure I believe him. This summer he made headlines when he graduated with a fine art degree from East Sussex College. He was 96 years and 56 days old â a few months short of setting a new world record for the oldest graduate.
Graduation was only the beginning. âIâm pretty busy all the time,â he says. A former solicitor, he still does consultancy work on the side and is âpainting furiously to meet the demands of studiosâ. On top of that, he is in the process of co-founding a charity, GradAid, with East Sussex College.
As a student, White attended a degree show where he bought âa delightful piece of potteryâ. However, when he turned it over to look underneath, he was surprised to find there were no marks made by the artist on the base â âno name or dateâ â for anyone wishing to buy more. Graduates were left to depart the nurturing environment of the college without much forward support or ânotion of professional help ... [Many students] donât have space for a studio, no money to hire or rent one.â Without assistance, he says, âthey are lost, to the detriment of society ⦠We are cruel not to think of their futures.â
To that end, he has negotiated with East Sussex College to make studio space and equipment available to graduates for a few years. Not everyone is fortunate enough to have a spare bedroom to convert into an art studio, as White has done in his flat in Rye, close to the south coast. He likes to sit and paint what he sees through the window â âthe river, the people passingâ. His red trousers are so splattered with oil paint that they are multicoloured.
Archie Whiteâs flat is crammed with paints, brushes and canvases. Photograph: Jill Mead/The GuardianIt doesnât sound a million miles away from his earliest artistic ventures: as a teenager he went on forays into the Devon countryside with his older sister, Kitty â although he used watercolour paints then. Off they would go for the day â to the local reservoir, its slopes a carpet of pink orchids in spring, or to Steps bridge over the river Dart (Whiteâs favourite), or to Sir Francis Drakeâs house â with their pochade boxes of paints and collapsible stools. âEverywhere we went was lovely.â
Yet for decades, while White worked as a solicitor, art slipped out of his life. He next picked up a sketchbook, age 72, after he sold his practice, when he and his late wife Joan âdecided to splurge our capital and tour the worldâ. On their travels, he sketched or took photographs â including of the Drake Passage, the body of water at the southern tip of Chile, which must have reminded him of those watercolour expeditions with Kitty.
So why did he return to art after five decades? âSimply because I had never lost it,â he says. âThe art I did in my youth must have been a strong memory which motivated me, without my recognising the cause.â Kitty, a dress and stage designer, died before White took up the brushes again. âShe never knew I was painting,â he says. âThatâs a curious thought.â
Now, two galleries in East Sussex would like to sell Whiteâs work. âI feel that every canvas is an experience on the road to professionalism,â he says. But has a degree in fine art made a difference to him? âI suppose it signifies that Iâve done something,â he says. âI donât think that the duty of a university is to change people. Unless itâs to broaden their outlook or understanding.â
Presumably, founding GradAid is proof of that. âBut the more you learn, surely the greater your feeling of your own insignificance.â
White says that his âhas been a lovely lifeâ, and I wonder what more he would like to do, beyond setting up the charity. âI donât know what I want, but I know that I need a lot more time.â
Tell us: has your life taken a new direction after the age of 60?