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James Lang

@jameslangstudio

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Awakening the South Sea Residency, Putian China 18th-29th Sep

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A pleasure to have fellow artist and photographer @j.s.clayton in to take some studio shots 📸 by @jameslangstudio

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7 months ago

Zhuang Zhou’s Dream, 2026, acrylic and wood fibre on canvas 80x60. ⁣
Collection of Rose Blue Studio ⁣
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“Was I Zhuang Zhou dreaming that I was a butterfly?⁣
Or am I actually a butterfly dreaming that I am Zhuang Zhou?” by @jameslangstudio

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18 hours ago

Arthur (The King in the Mountain) , 2024-26, acrylic and wood fibre with collage on found canvas, 150x50cm ⁣
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He showed him the Hall of Waiting,Where the King and his warriors lay,With their swords held fast in their iron hands,Waiting the judgment day.⁣
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He showed him the gold and the silver,And the shield of the King on the wall,And the Great Sword, brandished in ancient fields,That now hung bright in the hall.’But touch not the bell, and wake not the King,Lest the mountain should fall on thy head!⁣
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For they sleep till the time of the breaking of signs,With the great, un-awakened dead.’” by @jameslangstudio

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20 days ago

Bird of Yore, acrylic on canvas, 2024, 20x50cm. ⁣
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“O false thief!” he said to the crow. “I will repay you now for your false tale.⁣
Once you sang like a nightingale; but now, false thief, you shall give up your song, and you shall lose every one of your white feathers. Never again in all your life shall you speak.⁣
Thus shall men take vengeance upon a traitor. You and your offspring shall be black forever, and never again shall you make a sweet sound. You shall always cry out before storms and rain, as a sign that through you my wife was slain.”⁣
Then he rushed at the crow, and immediately pulled out every one of its white feathers. He made the crow black, took away its song and its speech, and threw it out of the door, giving it over to the devil.⁣
And for this reason all crows are black.⁣
“Gentlemen,” he says, “by this example I beg you, be careful about what you say. Never tell a man that another man has been with his wife, for he will certainly hate you bitterly.⁣
My son, think of the crow, in God’s name. Keep your tongue and keep your friend. A wicked tongue is worse than a fiend…”⁣ by @jameslangstudio

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24 days ago

Peter and Paul, 25x20cm, 2026, acrylic and wood fibre on canvas.

“It is the feast of the apostles’ triumph that has returned for us,
made glorious by the blood of Paul and Peter.
One and the same day, though renewed after a full year,
saw both crowned with the glory of a noble death.” by @jameslangstudio

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25 days ago

Small Rood, acrylic and wood fibre on canvas, 2025, 50x40cm

In the wood, the roots fast fixed
under the roof of the heavens, a tree which people on earth
call ‘Phoenix’, from that bird’s name.
That tree has the King, mighty in glory,
the Measurer of mankind, granted - I have heard -
that alone of all the trees
which lift up their branches upon the earth
it blooms the brightest. No wicked thing
can do it any harm; it is shielded for ever,
abiding untouched, as long as the world stands. by @jameslangstudio

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a month ago

On an Hour Glass, 40x30cm acrylic and wood fibre on canvas, 2025. ⁣
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MY life is measur’d by this glass, this glass⁣
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By all those little sands that thorough pass.⁣
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See how they press, see how they strive, which shall⁣
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With greatest speed and greatest quickness fall.⁣
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See how they raise a little mount, and then⁣
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With their own weight do level it again.⁣
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But when th’ have all got thorough, they give o’er⁣
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Their nimble sliding down, and move no more.⁣
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Just such is man, whose hours still forward run,⁣
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Being almost finish’d ere they are begun;⁣
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So perfect nothings, such light blasts are we,⁣
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That ere we’re aught at all, we cease to be.⁣
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Do what we will, our hasty minutes fly,⁣
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And while we sleep, what do we else but die?⁣
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How transient are our joys, how short their day!⁣
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They creep on towards us, but fly away.⁣
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How stinging are our sorrows! where they gain⁣
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But the least footing, there they will remain.⁣
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How groundless are our hopes, how they deceive⁣
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Our childish thoughts, and only sorrow leave!⁣
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How real are our fears! they blast us still,⁣
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Still rend us, still with gnawing passions fill;⁣
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How senseless are our wishes, yet how great!⁣
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With what toil we pursue them, with what sweat!⁣
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Yet most times for our hurts, so small we see,⁣
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Like children crying for some Mercury.⁣
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This gapes for marriage, yet his fickle head⁣
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Knows not what cares wait on a marriage bed:⁣
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This vows virginity, yet knows not what⁣
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Loneness, grief, discontent, attends that state.⁣
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Desires of wealth another’s wishes hold,⁣
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And yet how many have been chok’d with gold?⁣ by @jameslangstudio

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a month ago

Victory of the Spirit, 2024-26, acrylic and wood dust on canvas, 150x100cm

Then to the Heaven of Heavens he shall ascend
With victory, triumphing through the Air
Over his foes and thine; there shall surprise
The Serpent, Prince of Air, and drag in Chains
Through all his Realm, and there confounded leave;
Then enter into glory, and resume
His Seat at Gods right hand, exalted high
Above all names in Heaven by @jameslangstudio

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a month ago

I had the honour of showing my painting The Dream of the Rood as Part of The Raw and the Cooked exhibition curated by @harryjoneslondon @saatchi_gallery photography by Sergey Novikov. Show runs to September 11th 2026 by @jameslangstudio

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2 months ago

Judith, 2026, acrylic and wood fibre on canvas, 40x30cm ⁣
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“O Lord, God of Israel, give me strength now. Then Judith raised the sword and struck him twice in the neck as hard as she could, chopping off his head. She rolled his body off the bed and took down the mosquito net from the bedposts. Then she came out and gave Holofernes’ head to her slave who put it in the food bag.” by @jameslangstudio

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2 months ago

Delighted to be included in The Raw and the Cooked, curated by @harryjoneslondon taking place at @saatchi_gallery open August 7th - Sep 11th by @jameslangstudio

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3 months ago

The Wanderer, acrylic and wood dust on canvas, 30x20cm, 2026. He who deeply considers, with wise thoughts,
this foundation and this dark life,
old in spirit, often remembers
so many ancient slaughters, and says these words:
‘Where has the horse gone? where is the rider? where is the giver of gold?
Where are the seats of the feast? where are the joys of the hall?
O the bright cup! O the brave warrior!
O the glory of princes! How the time passed away,
slipped into nightfall as if it had never been!
There still stands in the path of the dear warriors
a wall wondrously high, with serpentine stains.
A storm of spears took away the warriors,
bloodthirsty weapons, wyrd the mighty,
and storms batter these stone walls,
frost falling binds up the earth,
the howl of winter, when blackness comes,
night’s shadow looms, sends down from the north
harsh hailstones in hatred of men.
All is toilsome in the earthly kingdom,
the working of wyrd changes the world under heaven.
Here wealth is fleeting, here friends are fleeting,
here man is fleeting, here woman is fleeting,
all the framework of this earth will stand empty.’ by @jameslangstudio

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3 months ago