The renowned equine artist comes from a family of blacksmiths who laid the foundation for his artistic journey. Tony O’Connor explains the inspiration behind his work …
My interest in horses probably goes back further than I can take any real credit for. It’s very much part of the family fabric. Horses were always there – never in a grand or romanticised way, just something constant in the background of life.
I have strong memories of the forge, and my grand uncle Mossie working away as a blacksmith. There was something about that world – the heat, the rhythm, the quiet skill of it – that stayed with me. Horses came and went through that space, not as subjects of admiration, but as part of a working life. I think that grounded my view of them early on – this slow, quiet familiarity turned into appreciation over time.
What I find myself drawn to now is their presence. There’s a calmness and an honesty to horses that you can’t really fake. They don’t perform, they just are and I think that’s something I’m always trying to capture in the work.
My work is driven by a fascination with light, atmosphere, and the emotional presence of animals. For many years I have explored the interplay between darkness and illumination, using strong contrasts of shadow and light to reveal character, movement, and mood.
Growing up in Ireland in the 1980s, there’s really only one man I can credit with sparking the grá for art – Don Conroy. Draw with Don on the TV, his books, and just his whole gentle way about him made it all feel possible. I still paint the odd owl these days, which I suppose is proof of how much that stuck.
At the same time, I was glued to Bob Ross, completely mesmerised by how effortlessly he brought landscapes to life – those “happy little trees” had a way of making you believe you might manage one yourself. And then there was Peter Curling. I would study his prints, half convinced that if I stared long enough I might absorb his brushwork and his understanding of equine anatomy by osmosis.
My parents and aunt were always very encouraging as well. In hindsight, they may have seen my early attempts at under-10 Gaelic football and decided I’d be better off with a brush than a ball and, to be fair, they were probably right.
I took a slightly roundabout route into my art career. I did art as an extra subject for my Leaving Cert, but at the time I’d fully intended to study engineering. That plan quietly fell away after I did a PLC course and put together a portfolio, which led me to Crawford College of Art in Cork. Painting horses there was a bit of a no-no, which probably made me more determined to stick with them. I’ve never been great at being told what I shouldn’t paint.
After college, even after getting my teaching degree, I found myself in that familiar wilderness of having to get a “real job” and make a living. I painted when I could, and I was lucky enough to be given a small attic space in the building I worked in – Carey Tools. It wasn’t glamorous, but I spent long nights up there, quietly working away, and that’s really where everything shifted. The volume of work I made in that dark attic reignited something in me. It stopped feeling like a distant idea and started to feel like something real – something I could actually do. So in the spring of 2011, I took the leap and went full time. I’m still working on becoming an overnight success, but I’ve come to realise those things can take a while.
I have a studio just beside my house, and I treat it very much like a 9 to 5 job. I’ve learned I need that bit of discipline – to leave the house, step into a place of work, and get on with it. I divide my time between commissioned work, gallery pieces, and more experimental ideas, so there are usually a few canvases on the go at any given moment. For commissions, I often work from photographs. Many of my clients are based overseas, so it’s not always practical to meet the horse in person. That said, I do make a point of drawing from life whenever I can – if only to keep the connection between eye, brain, and hand in good working order. I’ve also been very lucky to collaborate with some exceptional photographers around the world – Annie Damhof in the Netherlands, Andrea Zacharu in Germany, Samantha Dawn in the USA, among others. They trust me to interpret their work in my own way, which is both a privilege and a responsibility I don’t take lightly.
While horses have long featured in my work, my new exhibition marks a deeper exploration of the equine form as both subject and symbol. Fire & Shadow represents a natural evolution of my practice rather than a departure from it. The dramatic chiaroscuro and sense of mystery that have defined much of my work remains central, but they are now joined by a richer and more vibrant use of colour. Deep shadows meet glowing embers, luminous highlights, and unexpected flashes of warmth, creating paintings that feel both familiar and newly energised.
The horse provides an endless source of inspiration. Powerful yet sensitive, spirited yet graceful, it embodies a range of contrasts that mirror those within the paintings themselves. Through colour, texture, and light, I aim to capture not only the physical presence of the horse but also the emotion, energy, and quiet intensity that exists beneath the surface. This collection brings together works that celebrate movement, strength, and atmosphere while reflecting the continuing evolution of my artistic voice.
Need to know: Tony O’Connor’s exhibition Fire & Shadow is on at The Doorway Gallery, 27 Wicklow Street, Dublin 2 and he will also be showing work at Dublin Horse Show.
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