In Memoriam | Visual Arts

Earl Jones: 1937-2024

Earl Jones, an influential artist known for his deep love of mountains and the human form, passed away Aug. 25, 2024 at age 87 after a remarkable life and career. His works, often described as poetic and unabashed, conveyed his vision of nature’s power and human vulnerability, themes that resonated with audiences for over six decades.

He died of complications of COPD, chronic obstructive pulmonary disease. While Jones had once been a smoker, the condition was aggravated by his having kept pigeons as a boy and later on the roof of his home; dust from their wings proved toxic, said his son, Nathan Thomas Jones.

Burial was in a pine coffin in Samaria, Idaho, in the Malad Valley—home to the largest Welsh community outside of Wales, according to Nathan Jones—where Jones had built a large cabin. “The Welsh settled here in the 1860s—so he is related to almost everyone in the cemetery,” said his son. There was no funeral service, though Nathan Jones delivered a graveside eulogy; an obituary will appear in The Salt Lake Tribune at a later date.

The cabin Earl Jones built in the Malad Valley

Earl Jones was born in Salt Lake City on April 25, 1937, and “he could remember when Welsh was spoken in the household, often as a ploy to keep youngsters from knowing what was being said,” his son observed. Jones grew up in Ogden, then lived in Salt Lake City his entire adult life except for one year, 1959, which he spent at the Art Students League in New York training with figure painter Joseph Hirsch. Jones then entered the U’s graduate program and taught drawing and painting classes at Finch Lane’s “Art Barn.” He earned a master’s degree and became a full-time faculty member at the U from about 1962 until the roof caved in on him seven years later.

The controversy surrounding his nudes, displayed alongside works by fellow artists and friends like Tony Smith and Denis Phillips (both also recently deceased), sparked debates on censorship and artistic freedom. When the show was removed after protests from the university president’s wife, Jones and his peers fought back, launching a movement that would inspire local activism against both censorship and the Vietnam War. Jones was part of a group that founded the Utah chapter of the Peace and Freedom Party, advocating for change and protesting the war. “During the anti-war movement we were meeting here at the gallery,” recalls Bonnie Phillips, owner of Phillips Gallery that represents Earl Jones. “I learned so much from Earl about what it is to fight for peace and justice,” she says.

Figure study by Earl Jones, dated 1989

 

Denied tenure (Jones said it was the best thing that could have happened to him) he struck out on his own, teaching privately in his studio. It wasn’t easy—Jill Backman Jones (his wife of nearly 65 years, who survives him) worked to support the family until he could “get some momentum going,” putting off obtaining her Ph.D. in social work from Bryn Mawr. The retired college professor remains active in private practice in Salt Lake City.

Jones worked in Salt Lake City in a one-time Phillips gas station that was extensively remodeled. Though he tired from private teaching after 35 years, former students and colleagues would drop in weekly for a sort of life-drawing soiree. Everyone chipped in five bucks for a live model who posed on a mechanic’s hoist which, in an earlier life, elevated vehicles in need of repair—it became an Earl Jones legend.

It was while earning his MFA at the University of Utah during the late 1950s and early 1960s that Jones met Denis Philips who was working on his bachelor’s degree and the two became friends.  Their friendship would grow to encompass their families. Camping together was a favorite pastime, according to Bonnie Phillips. Jones came to be one of the first artists to exhibit in an “upstart“ gallery founded by Denis and Bonnie Phillips in 1965, called Phillips Gallery. “Through the years, Earl Jones has continued showing here at Phillips, many times in featured, solo exhibitions. We are honored to carry this representation into the foreseeable future,” Bonnie Phillips writes in a press release.

His paintings often portrayed the relationship between humanity and nature, particularly in the transitional spaces he called “the edges,” where man’s influence meets untouched landscapes. Jones was known for his ability to capture light and shadow with a mesmerizing luminescence, an effect that gave his paintings an ethereal quality. He worked outdoors, on location, capturing fleeting moments of natural beauty amidst the distractions of changing light, biting insects, and the rush of life happening around him.

Landcape by Earl Jones from an exhibit at Phillips Gallery in 2014

 “There’s an energy that happens when you paint on location,” Jones once said. “It’s the urgency that produces spontaneity. Outdoors with the breeze going, the light changing, there are a thousand distractions that create an urgent situation. You’ve got to get these things down before it changes.”

Jones’ home studio was a space filled with art — his own, as well as works by his children and other Utah artists he admired. The living area was sparsely furnished, but each object, like the great-grandmother’s bed adorned by a vibrant nude painting beside it, told a story of his artistic journey. His workspace was once a mechanic’s garage, a fitting symbol for Jones’ belief that art and life were intertwined in both the ordinary and the extraordinary.

He was deeply influenced by other great Utah artists, particularly LeConte Stewart, whose work he initially resisted. “It made me nervous to look at LeConte Stewart,” Jones admitted, noting that his younger self was eager to escape the provinciality of his upbringing. It wasn’t until later that he understood the value in Stewart’s art — how it celebrated the everyday beauty of Utah’s rural landscapes and revealed a deep connection to roots that Jones had tried to transcend.

Jones’ art was always political, though not always overtly so. His environmental concerns became a central theme in his later work. “Many of my paintings portray the edges where the landscape meets the man-made,” he once explained. “I want to paint places where there is a balance, a harmony, between humanity and nature.” He avoided painting the modern encroachments of condominium projects, instead focusing on elements like barns, fences, and farmhouses, which he thought belonged in the landscape.

Landcape by Earl Jones from an exhibit at Phillips Gallery in 2014

As a vocal critic of capitalism, Jones believed that the root of environmental destruction lay in the profit-driven mindset that reduced forests to mere lumber. “I remember a friend saying you might look at a forest and see the green and purple and shapes and patterns, but a capitalist sees only lumber,” he reflected. For Jones, painting was an act of defiance, a way to reveal the world’s beauty and possibility in the face of a culture that too often failed to see it.

Throughout his life, Jones sought a deeper connection between humanity and nature. His work remains a testament to that search — whether in the luminous glow of a mountain range or the soft, delicate curves of a woman’s form. His art, his activism, and his conversations were all part of an effort to break through what he called “ordinary consciousness,” to awaken people to the beauty and importance of the world around them.

Earl Jones’ legacy endures in his paintings and sculptures, as well as in the memories of the countless students, artists, and friends who were fortunate enough to know him. As a revolutionary, an artist, and a conversationalist, Jones was, at heart, a man dedicated to making the world a better, more beautiful place — one painting at a time.

Jones is survived by his wife, Jill Backman Jones, and by the couple’s three children, all artists themselves: Nathan Thomas Jones, photographer, who splits his time between Salt Lake City and a cabin less than a mile from his father’s gravesite; Sarah Ann Jones, fiber artist and garden designer, Seattle; Samuel Patrick Jones, watercolorist, Flagstaff, Ariz., and three grandchildren: Nathan’s daughter, Chloe Jones, 31, and Sarah’s two children: Silas Robinson-Jones, New York City, and Grace Robinson-Jones, Berlin, Germany, both in their twenties.

 

Categories: In Memoriam | Visual Arts

Tagged as:

4 replies »

  1. Earl Jones was a treasure, pure and simple. For twelve or so years the Tuesday evenings I spent drawing and painting from the model in his studio were the highlight of my week, and some of the most valuable learning and practice of my art career. While Earl insisted that he wasn’t teaching at that time, it was impossible not to learn from him. You could read from his face and his example everything you needed to know. He was inscrutably generous in his Welsh way. I am certain that all of us who had the opportunity to be in his presence feel the same gratitude and loss…well, maybe not everyone–he was Earl Jones, after all….

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published.