A Response To The Painting 'The Oncologists' by Ken Currie

Why, Mr Currie, have you portrayed these men in this way?

They stand there, like ghosts against the darkness, with hooded eyes

and shoulders hunched. The door behind them mirrors their mood, yawning, dark with despair. It beckons to those filled with fear.

Why do they stand there like that? These men are supposed to deliver hope, not fear. These three men are bound together by a shared knowledge, are experts in their field and are world renowned. But they look saddened by this association with death and uncertainty. Do they really feel like this?

Does your view reflect your own experience with cancer I wonder?

Is this how you feel?

Is it always about sadness and fear?

These three should stand proud. Proud of what they have given the world. Surely those who have been diagnosed (and that includes me), do not want to see faces filled with gloom. Their faces look at me from the portrait with concern and empathy but what I want to see is hope. I want to see it in their eyes and their faces, in their body and hear it in their language.

When I think about it, your picture perhaps reflects the reaction of my friends and family when they were first told. Their sadness and fear was apparent on their faces. But this was short lived. Their further reactions were linked to mine – and I refused to look at the negative route. I was not going to sink into despair. I was going to be hopeful and let these men and their research do their job. They do not strive to find a cure to have people give in. They want to know that their operational techniques and the associated chemotherapy they have developed may prevent further spread of the disease. Their work is prolonging life, not preparing for death. So why have you painted them as if they are the living dead?

Mr Currie, I am sorry to say, this portrait does not reflect my experience. These men gave me hope, yet I have never met them. Their toxic drugs surprisingly allowed me to keep my hair which was indeed a bonus. The surgeons and oncology staff in many hospitals use the techniques and drugs developed by these men. Many bowel cancer suffers have benefited from their research and I certainly was determined to be one of them.

I wonder how they feel, these trio of professors, when they see themselves portrayed like this. Were they happy with the final result? Did they agree with your interpretation of their work? These men are certainly worthy of the recognition that a portrait allows. But does your work truly reflect the recognition deserved by these worthy subjects?

In some respects, I understand. The word cancer is enough to strike fear in the hearts of anyone. But even those, whose diagnosis seems to be less than favourable, will look for a glimmer of hope to hold on to. And it is the work of these men that they will look to.

I think, Mr Currie, that these men are certainly worthy of a portrait, and you are certainly worthy of painting it, but I would have preferred to see a work which reflected the hope from the patients whose futures they hold in their hands –a future which may have been very different if it wasn’t for the hope that these three esteemed strangers gave to them, and gave to me.

Hope remains in my life seventeen years on. I embrace the moments of hopefulness, enjoying the feeling of excitement and achievement that they can bring when those hopes materialise for myself or those around me. As the years fly by, I will endeavour to continue my reliance on hope, to be a steady companion and influence on my road ahead.