Transition forms the context surrounding artist Danny Fox’s latest exhibition, titled As He Bowed His Head To Drink. Where his last London exhibition saw him present a calli-graphic montage of cowboys, boxers and ladyboys, his new work centres around a more conceptual theme, ‘abstract misadventure’.

Plundering topes from historical tales and the European Masters, Fox once again metabolises his influence with his own off-centre iconography. The sleazy and menacing aesthetic is still pronounced, but now it has evolved to include an edge of vulnerability that radiates from the fringes. This time his subjects are on the move. Figures in a state of flux and unsure of what the future holds, with ominous clouds looming.

Man’s trusty horse is a recurring motif throughout, that noble stead who shares the pain and hardship of war and travel with it’s owner, and the vehicle of change for so many historical eras. In some ways the narrative here symbolises Fox’s own somewhat nomadic lifestyle, living across St. Ives, LA and London, and yet the overriding ideas stem from a wider viewpoint; from observing the world around him.

This new exhibition features an accompanying catalogue featuring a foreword by Wes Lang and an interview between Fox and British artist Sue Webster. As Lang enthuses, “This is art that needs to be seen, needs to be discussed, shit on, lifted up, liked, hated and everywhere else in between.”

Alex James Taylor: We last spoke to you this time last year when you were exhibiting at the Cock n Bull gallery. What’s changed since then for you?
Danny Fox: Its been a long year! I think I’ve covered a lot of ground so in the run up to this show at The Redfern Gallery I’m pretty knackered. I did some residencies and just worked a lot. I’ve been staying out of the pub and just working all the time really.

AJT: In your press release it says that you’ve shifted your focus from “insular allegories to observing life’s capitulations on a much greater scale” Can you explain this to us?
DF: Its always weird to read what people have written about your work, especially in terms of development over time because you can’t always see it happening yourself. My early work was very angsty, based on bad relationships or whatever. Now I think my themes are more broad. The inspiration for a lot of the work has come from hitting a wall in London, sick of going out and drinking, tired of the city. The horse and rider is the most common theme in this show, in one painting there is a man leaving one sun set only to arrive at another and he has two faces of indecision.

AJT: The catalogue has a foreword by Wes Lang, how did that relationship form?
DF: He got in contact with me after seeing the work I made in L.A. He explains it really well in the forward actually, “When I saw his work that was created in Los Angeles earlier this year, I had to have it. Had to. We have never met. A few emails back and forth at odd hours…that is the extent of our relationship. Luckily, in my home, hanging high on a wall, his presence is in my life on a daily basis. We have coffee together most mornings, listen to a lot of music and share more than the occasional vodka. I see so many things in what he does, most importantly is art that is carrying on the essential conversation that has been going on generation after generation, movement after movement.”

AJT: And your art has that same historical and spiritual background that Wes translates so well in his work. I suppose he has long been an influence of yours?
DF: Yeah, although there are similarities in our work in terms of subject matter it seems like the works we like the most of each others are the ones that are really different. Wes is doing really well, he has become a good collector. It’s a good situation, he’s a top bloke. I think historically my work is of course more British, but then again a lot American history is British history, or Spanish history. It’s all just history. I think people think I paint cowboys from the American west but usually they’re not actually cowboys just men in hats or on horses.

AJT: Movement and transition seems to be key within these images. Many of the subjects are on horseback or midway through a transition.
DF: Yes, transition, exactly, thats what I was trying to say a minute ago, and moving, moving on, fucking off, starting again. Having a man on a horse is a great way of getting him to move. I have always wanted to make a painting look like it’s moving. A couple of years ago I was going through a heavy Van Gogh phase and when I would make my girlfriend look at his paintings in books and stuff she would say, “Wow, its moving,” and I would say, “FUCK!, I have to make my paintings move!” They still don’t move like Van Gogh’s, that’s too much moving sometimes. But yes, like I said before, these horse riders are very much about me moving out of London into the next chapter.

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AJT: This collection of work was completed across St.Ives, LA and London. How much does your location influence your work? Once you’ve started a piece in one place do you like to finish it there, or isn’t that so much of an issue for you?
DF: The first thing is the scale, the main reason I was moving around was to use big studios so I could make big paintings. It’s hard to know how the place actually effects the work, especially with these short term residencies you turn up for three or four months and you’ve still got a head full of all the shit you’ve been carrying around forever, it doesn’t just go away because you’re suddenly by a cornish beach or in a Californian desert. Little things happen though, for example when I arrived in LA I stayed at a friends place and she had a Mexican scarf pinned over her window for a curtain with a bullfighter embroidered onto it, so I painted a version of it. It was the first piece I made out there. I usually try to finish a painting before I move on to the next place but I will paint over canvases once I get to new places, somethings don’t travel well. ­

AJT: St Ives is obviously more peaceful than LA and London, does that have an effect on you? Do you have a preference?
DF: Yes, very peaceful. It’s strange though, as a painter sometimes in those quiet and serene places the noise in one’s head can get turned right up, there’re no distractions from it. Thats part of the reason I moved away from there in the first place, when I got to the city I had this real sense of peace in all the lights and noise. I did get a lot done when I went back though. I even worked on a series of Cornish landscapes which I never thought I would do again. I prefer the country though, I’m trying to make moves to get back somehow.

Danny Fox: As He Bowed His Head To Drink runs from 17th November to 5th December at Redfurn Gallery, W1S 3HL