David Clarke’s fascination with the bullfight began after an idyllic period spent in Spain; the theme resurfaced in his later work when it became a metaphor for survival, writes Fiana Griffin
In his later years, David Clarke talked of his life as an odyssey, challenging, never comfortable, but ever exciting. After decades of much frustration and restlessness, he spent the last twenty-five years of his life as he had always wanted to, in his studio. Occasionally elated, more often dissatisfied, his work was everything to him. Greater recognition would have been a bonus, and he did exhibit, but his family background had made him shy of publicity. His parents were Harry Clarke, the stained glass artist and book illustrator, and his mother was the portrait artist Margaret Clarke (see the Irish Arts Review Spring 2007). The fame of parents can be a burden, giving rise to comparisons and expectations, as well as opening doors. David did not want to provoke the one or exploit the other
