*This tale discusses substance abuse, challenging health conditions, neglect, and associated subjects. Reader discretion is advised.

David Marron’s artistic practice has been quietly sustaining itself for the last 24 years, teetering between the principles of self-contextualisation and quiet advocacy. How these principles came to be is the result of David’s occupational commitments as a paramedic and the lifelong exigency for creative expression - two stations within his life that enlist practice and care.

David’s entry into the paramedic field did not follow the path of intended edification or promotion. His occupational journey began as a hospital porter at St.Thomas’ Hospital, succeeded by a role in the National Art Library of the Victoria and Albert Museum. A recruitment opportunity hosted by the London Ambulance Service would push David into the world of medical emergencies, traumatic conditions, and situations of unease. With years of training under his belt, David supports and overcomes these unpredictable scenarios.

As part of his practice, David suffuses an artefact, person, feature, or fuliginous element from a memory across multiple pieces; each painting and sculpture acting as a composite, interacting with one another to unveil the esoteric value behind his greater body of work, trumpeting creative murmurs beyond the domain of placid contemplation.

Invited into his garden studio in Leatherhead, David Marron joins The Poorly Project to discuss his process, how he draws beauty from the ruptures in life, and the creative confluence of his practice and profession.

Standing at the doorway of David Marron’s studio, there are no apertures for anything but art-making. Behind the wall of canvases hides more work, moodboards, and the constituents of past installations, neatly tucked away and only revealed once works have been maneuvered from one wall to another. Shelves and desks cultured with supplies, curios, and art anthologies - finding a seat or a spot to comfort oneself against poses somewhat of a challenge - a humorous commonality amongst artist studios.

For art enthusiasts and visitors, the studio is an argosy for inspiration and the particulars of life. For David, these particulars concern his profession as a paramedic. Placing a tower of books upon a paint-splattered stool, David accommodates his stature as we begin the conversation on his creative practice.

The last two decades have been a careful balancing act for David - the twelve-hour capriciousness of the ambulance abutting the solemn, ruminative silence of the studio. They are divides and constants that call for David’s constant attention and commitment. David compliments his role as a paramedic, limned as a “good antidote to the self-contained and solitary life of an artist”.

“As a paramedic, encountering people in need with genuinely life-affecting problems, puts into perspective the obsessive and often inconsequential meanderings of an artist. And this hopefully informs the artwork I do and has done so since - in a way that offers some empathy and consideration to the world around us”

“When I wake up at night, I’m thinking about art, and when I'm at work, I'm thinking about art. What I found difficult was that my time as a paramedic took away from my time as an artist, and my time as an artist took away from my time as a paramedic - you worry that you aren’t devoting enough time because you stretched quite dramatically. But, I actually think I need that tension”

The boundaries in these two separate stages of time gradually break down when we begin to analyse how David’s occupational interactions percolate into the canvas and sculptures he creates. The process of creating is not with cathartic intent, but rather, driven by David’s modest love for art and art-making. His experiences as a paramedic are elusive visual informants to the work, instead of standing in the conceptual foreground.

*‘Untitled’* from *Longshot* (2023-5) series

Recognising how his profession interacts with his creative practice allows David to “take little bits from all over the place” - an occupational memory, mental spark, or relevant research is abstracted, treating each piece as a composite that is decentralised from a specific patient, condition, or circumstance. Resultantly, David can sensitively navigate his interactions and the position he possesses as a paramedic.

David’s commitment to sustaining the dignity of his interactions is supported by the sentiment that “the art always falls short of what's happening in front of you”.

“Emotion is a big factor for me. I've come to realise more that I'm not trying to replicate the scene that's in front of me, but just to take something from it”

‘*Untitled’* from *Drawn (*2019-2025) series

“In the paramedic field, the emotions are so heightened. That is going to be very hard to replicate. And it's not always a pleasant thing to try and replicate”

“And so, I think the whole thing about art is that you have this idea in your brain that you're trying to get to. But what you end up with is often not quite what you imagined. So art is always falling short of something. But it gets somewhere else”

“I think that's the important part. It's the act of trying to get somewhere”

Two figures wait at the studio’s heel - Medicine Woman (2024-5) stands supported by forearm crutches, whilst Pharmacist (2023-4) sits in a fetal position. They are the first two sculptural pieces to greet us and establish the collective embodiments within David’s work - those who exist in the social periphery and whose socio-medical needs suffer degradation.

Constructed using a wooden skeleton and plastered skull, Pharmacist is a mixed-media piece focusing on the realities of the unhoused population, substance abuse, and our growing reliance on prescribed medication. Through Pharmacist, David acknowledges the co-occurrence, persistence, and interrelation of these complex issues, exploring what constitutes their contingency and our susceptibility.

*Medicine Woman (*2024-5) and *Pharmacist (*2023-4)

“We're a very medicated society now. It's very unusual to go to someone in their later years who's not on a lot of medication for a variety of reasons, to the point where it's extending lives, which is obviously the whole point of it” comments David.

“When I was looking after someone who was presumably homeless - they would probably need a lot of medication. But they don't have GPs, and so they're often prescribed stuff that they will get from the hospital. Then they will not take it, so they're often non-compliant with the medicine. The stories about how they've ended up in that situation are not always so formulaic, and it could happen to anyone. It doesn't take much to be unable to pay rent or a downturn; some event that's triggered something, or even substance abuse”

“That becomes such a problem that the rest of your life kind of gets taken away. Even just the endurance of having to be on the street might lead you to drugs, just to numb any sort of pain. There are all the addictive fields to medication, and the issues that come along with that”

Atop the sculpture is a surfeit of oblong pills. A few have fallen onto the sculpture’s forearm, commenting on the reliance and proclivity for medication - out of addiction, survival, or preservation - a ‘pharmakon’. Crows are perched near the pills. Influenced by the animal companions of unhoused individuals, David symbolically treats these sharp-beaked passerines as "harbingers of something not quite right”, connecting them to their Celtic and Germanic mythological associations with death and misfortune.

Pharmacist holds a bowl of medication, offering greater elucidation. A nest of golden eggs sits at its feet, suggestive of Pharmacist’s role as a protective icon - a “broody mother hen” protecting her eggs. Even if all appears lost or forlorn, there remains something to defend. Yet much like the crows, the golden eggs possess a suspicious tone. David draws influence from nursery rhymes and cautionary tales, where protagonists are warned not to follow the misleadingly appealing path or knock on the doors of strangers. The golden eggs symbolise the pursuit of something that is not always favourable. David compares these fictional anecdotes to the reality of creating art and the sacrifices made in its pursuit.

Mirroring each other's construction, Medicine Woman (2024-5) offers hope to Pharmacist - the prospect of overcoming adversities and using our experiences to guide others. David characterises Medicine Woman as an individual who, through enduring great amounts of pain and trauma, has achieved a transcendental state of mind. He presents the piece as a prompt to question how we differentiate true and performative acts of understanding - “I could always say words, but do I mean it?”.

Close-up shot of *Medicine Woman (*2024-5)

“There's a two-way street - those experiences can twist you or push you into someone or something else. They can push you into someone with empathy for other people, or it can send you down a route of what's considered ‘not normal' by society - looking quite eccentric, and kids laughing at you in the street. With Medicine Woman, there's a playfulness to it. There’s hope”

A theatre gown with medical vials irregularly pinned around, at odds with a bucket hat adorned by peacock feathers. Hard candy is stashed beneath a red zip-up hoodie, whilst a heavy-duty rope coils around her neck - Medicine Woman invites elements of modern medicine and holistic ceremonialism, healing and hurting, and practicing kindness as a defiant act against past troubles. Her crutches and tambourine act as a ritual staff. The makings of Medicine Woman signify a ritualistic commitment to the self, recasting the body and mind to better the world.

“There was a great book by Cyrano de Bergerac called ‘Other Worlds’. And there was a beautiful bit in the book where this person is trying to get to the moon. And the way of doing it was by filling glass vials with morning dew. When the sun shone on them, they evaporated. And that was a way of moving up into the stratosphere”

David’s occupation means providing medical support for patients with neurodegenerative diseases or those whose conditions may lead to self-neglect. Through Fruit flies (2018-19), David rescues the dignity of the figures depicted, without disavowing the realities of their conditions or the essentiality of support.

From afar, Fruit flies appears dimensioned - etched to form its depth-filled appearance. David's approach to the piece simulates aged tree bark, a catenation to his aim of producing work that has “lived a life”. A mistake upon many more mistakes, David manipulates studio accidents and technical errors into the piece’s unrushed development, offering greater layers to his composite approach.

Fruit flies sustains the equivocal nature of David’s visual language, and whilst the resemblance to tree bark is conceptually relevant - his influences run even deeper. Fascinated by studies conducted on the neurobiological performance of fruit flies to better study dementia, David learned about the similarities between these nuisance pests and ourselves. As dementia progresses, neurons become entangled. A patient’s worsening condition may cause personality changes - primarily agitation, hostility, and isolation. The presence of fruit flies is an unfortunate indicator of neglect or a departure from life upon arrival at a patient’s residence.

Embracing the research and his occupational proximities to dementia, David paints a chaotic, neural structure - a reminder to the shattering nature of dementia. Stuck beneath the neural web, two figures can be seen. One appears seated on the toilet, scrolling through their phone. Another sits in a primal crouch. At the heart of the painting is a fruit fly. The insectoid appearance of the two figures recaptures our genetic commonality with fruit flies. Their corporeality exhibits the gradual behavioural and subsequent physical erosion caused by dementia. David expresses that there are often visual cues attached to neurodegenerative diseases, but in certain cases, behaviour decline can be less detectable.

With works that have “lived a life”, David pulls the artwork’s lifespan to meet the viewer’s gaze, ushering a meditation upon creativity. Criticising the contemporary crisis of sensory overload, he hopes that his practice begets a centralised focus - where the viewer can examine the work and muse on what it means to them:

“Everyone is bombarded with so many images, words, and sounds. You can't think - you're so drowned in senses that the act of thinking deeply or experiencing something is being taken away”

“There is an element of slowness that is being taken out of life. It's one of the forms of learning that they very much encourage within healthcare now - thinking about the jobs you've done, what you could have done differently, and what you've done well”

“If my work can drag them away from somewhere, just to sit quietly and think about the artwork…letting your thoughts develop and go somewhere. I think that's the purpose of art. We take them away from that quickness”

“I would like someone to be temporarily distracted from their world and engage with it”

You can learn more about David on Instagram and his official website.

All Images Courtesy of The Poorly Project

DAVID MARRON

Antonia Attwood