Christopher Michael Greene

Non ho conosciuto Kriss ma godo di un’amicizia di mezzo secolo che mi lega a Stefania e tutta la sua famiglia. Pertanto il dolore di questa perdita ha toccato tutti noi amici e fratelli che siamo lontani e dalla Sardegna invio un grande abbraccio sincero e affettuoso. Mi unisco al vostro dolore, in particolare a Stefania Michael Zoé e l’intera famiglia. che la pace sia con Kriss.

Sono molto felice sia io che la mia famiglia di aver conosciuto Chris, compagno di mia sorella Stefania e padre di mio nipote Michael. È stato una persona gentile, disponibile e un stupendo artista, pittore che riusciva con i suoi quadri a farti entrare e scoprire la sua vita è quella dei suoi amici e familiari. Anche se non possiamo essere lí per darli l’ultimo saluto e una preghiera, da qui dalla Sardegna che considerava una sua terza patria sono contenta di pregare e abbracciarlo virtualmente nel suo funerale online il 30/10/2020 stando vicino in forte abbraccio a Stafania, Michael, Tom, Harry, Zoe era tutti i suoi amici e familiari. Alessandra and all family

Two defining memories of Chis. The first was some years back and Chris giving me the insiders’ tour of his studio complex in south London. Gushing with enthusiasm and smiling Chris fizzed along the long corridors of the art studios, popping in on colleagues and being warmly greeted everywhere he went. This one works clay like no other; this one paints like an angel; this one is amazing. Nothing but praise and admiration for his fellow artists. He loved his craft, and he loved being there in his art space and sharing his time and passion with others. As we all know, he was always modest about his own paintings, which I – and others in his studio – thought were fantastic. They inspire and push you at the same time. The figures and faces he painted were intriguing – sometimes threating, sometimes cheeky, often beautiful. But Chris was a modest guy and always shied away from the acclaim he deserved. Not my thing. I paint because I paint, not for the fame and fortune. He was happy to just be painting and sharing a cuppa with his artist friends. They – like us all – will really miss him. My second memory is Chris in fun mode. If you wanted to drag Chris from his art you had to offer him a bike ride. He was a super cycling buddy. I wish we had gone on more trips, but the few we did were great. Hey Paul, look at this. Hey Paul, is that an old hospital site. Hey Paul, let’s go this way – no that way! He was strong and could cycle like the wind. My only consolation was that he never had a top of the range bike. Thank god, I would never have been able to keep up! Like everyone who knew Chris, his inquisitiveness and relentless curiosity were boundless. There was an intensity to him with a slice of innocence, which was charming and sometimes disarming. But behind it all there was a sharp mind and always, always a care for others. Oh, how we will miss him. Rest in peace, Chris. Paul x

I met Chris some years ago as the companion of my friend Stefania. Our time together has produced many meaningful conversations and support throughout. His warmth and supportive attitude will be remembered gratefully. My deepest condolences to the family. Marco

 

Shocked at the news.I didn’t know Chris well but as a fellow artist at Childers St we had random and good humoured conversations on the stairs. I went to his studio once and he came to mine…we spoke about the strange business of the art world and the even stranger business of painting. Thinking of all his family and close friends. Dave Lockett.

Chris was such a light, burning with energy and goodness and artistic talent. So modest. And always ready to help. My heartfelt condolences to Stefania, Michael, Harry, Tom, Zoe, his wider family and all who knew him. A great and sudden loss.

A tragic and cruel loss … Chris was a unique chap and will be sadly missed by myself and the rest of the art department

 

      So glad that I had met Chris this year after a long time, when he came with Stefania to visit my mum here in Sardinia; the nice time we shared was too short though, especially thinking about it now, just after his sudden and unexpected passing away. I would like to share this lovely memory I have of Chris, a present I had from him and Stefania long time ago that i hope It can be seen in these pictures: it’s a beautiful psychedelic colourful box he actually made and painted, which contained two VHS he recorded of The Beatles Anthology, a documentary that was broadcast on UK television in 1995, and now it’s such a precious thing I can cherish and love. God bless you Chris. My deepest condolences from me and Francesca Joy to Stefania, Michael and his siblings and Zoe ❤️    

There aren’t words to truly do justice to the memory of Chris, and to what he did for so many around him.   We’ll always remember fondly his impish and innocent sense of fun, his warmth, empathy and startling intelligence too. We’ll remember also his extraordinary gift for painting and making art, one which he always shrugged off, modest to a fault. There was something brighter about the day when Chris sailed past on his bike, waving cheerily, a broad, happy smile on his face. We’ll miss the beautiful sunshine he brought to us all.   That we had the privilege to know him was a constant delight to us.   Our heartfelt condolences go to Stefania, Michael, Harry, Tom, Zoe, his wider family, and to all who knew him.  

Chris at the studio, graduation with his mother

Chris   So, you went first. I didn’t expect that, I don’t think any of us did, you were always so strong we thought you were indestructible, I can see you now, making light work of climbing the cliffs on the Gower with Robert on your shoulders.   Perhaps we should have paid more attention to your paintings; beautiful, ephemeral and as vulnerable as flowers in winter, paintings that never quite earned you the recognition or income you deserved but were so generous to those who saw them.   They say that when a soul has filled its purpose the body becomes careless, I hope they are right and that in the few weightless moments of your fall you were at peace and knew yourself as sacred.   All I do know is that you died as you lived, with a paintbrush in your hand and that I loved you from the moment we met.

Non avremmo mai pensato di dover scrivere questo messaggio, che perdita. Chris era un incredibile artista ed un incredibile uomo, intelligente, gentile, generoso, modesto, divertente, con un tale amore per l’arte ed il bello da riuscire a trasmettertelo. Siamo stati fortunati a conoscerlo, ci mancherà terribilmente e ci mancheranno tutte le opere d’arte che avrebbe continuato a creare. Addolorati ci stringiamo a Stefania, Michael, Harry, Tom, Zoe ed a tutti i suoi familiari ed amici.

My condolence to Stefania and Michael for the unexpected loss of Chris

La perdita di Chris è un grande dolore anche per noi che avremmo voluto incontrarlo ancora e approfondire la nostra amicizia con lui ,persona davvero speciale. Parteciperemo con il cuore affranto al funerale e ci stringiamo con affetto a Stefania,Michael,Harry,Tom,Zoe e a tutti i suoi familiari e amici.

Although I didn’t see Chris that often, I felt I knew him well. He was always a steady and supportive presence in my friendship with Stefania. His intricate drawings and richly detailed paintings formed a backdrop to my visits to their flat. Chris chose a difficult path – as we know, being an artist is always a precarious profession but Chris had the passion, dedication and talent to stay with it. He will be much missed.

Having known Chris for about 20 years, we were saddened and shocked to hear of this sudden and tragic loss. Chris was very talented, funny, kind, generous, warm, and a genuinely good soul. He will be sorely missed. As a family we have so many great memories of Chris, it only takes the thought of one and you’re guaranteed to be smiling. It truly was a joy to know him.   Our thoughts and condolences are with Stefania, Michael, Zoe, Harry, and Tom.   With all our love, Helen, Danny, Luke, and Sam   

E’emozionante leggere le parole piene di amore con cui la famiglia presenta e onora la vita di Chris. Queste parole e le foto scelte con accuratezza aiutano tutti noi a riflettere e ad accompagnare Chris in questo viaggio. Questi giorni che precedono la cerimonia sono questo per me. Ho conosciuto Chris a Londra quasi vent’anni fa, quando con tutta la famiglia siamo passati a trovare Stefania, mia amica da quando siamo ragazze, Chris Michael e Zoe. Ho impresso nella memoria Chris che segue con dolcezza e stupore Michael e Antonio, mio figlio,che si divertono e si annoiano dentro il Museo delle Scienze. Sono stati giorni pieni di gioia. Altre volte sono tornata a Londra a trovare Stefania e Chris è sempre stato discreto, gentile e comprensivo mentre con Stefi ci appartavamo a chiacchierare e a ridere per ore. In una di queste visite abbiamo parlato a lungo del suo lavoro e mi affidò uno dei cofanetti con i suoi disegni su carta sulla storia dell’Eden, progetto di cui Stefania mi aveva a lungo parlato. Oggi quel “dono” assume un significato speciale. In quel momento della sua arte Chris ha scelto di raccontare una storia, la sua personale visione dell’origine della dualità in questa terra. I disegni sono preceduti dalla visione della terra dall’alto e con la terra dall’alto si concludono. Ho letto in un piccolo libro sugli Angeli che alcuni di noi, pur passando attraverso le difficoltà, scelgono di “ricordare” la luce dalla quale veniamo. Chris ha scelto di “ricordare” e “raccontare” questa luce. A tal proposito vorrei dire che mi hanno toccato le parole del suo amico Paul quando riferisce le parole di Chris “I paint because i paint”. Essere una sola cosa con ciò che amiamo fare: questo mi porto nel cuore. Un abbraccio immenso da parte mia, di Fabio, Leo, Anto, Gabri e Ale a Stefania, Michael e Zoe (nostri cari amici) e ad Harry e Tom e a tutta la famiglia in America. Buon viaggio Chris e grazie  

I met Chris’s artwork before I met him. It was thirty years ago in his house in Waller Road and I was blown away by his paintings. Colourful, quirky, vibrant and superbly executed. It all made sense when I met Chris himself. An amazing man – kind, funny, caring and so so talented. We had the privilege of having five of his paintings in our house a few years back and they brought such joy to us all. We will miss his sparkle and his joie de vivre. A light has gone out in our dark world but his legacy will shine forever.

Chris Greene Chris lived on our road. Chris decorated our home. Chris passed our house on his bicycle daily. Chris dropped in with bits of news. Chris shared so many tasks I found more difficult as I got older.    Chris helped me secure my studio next door to his at Childers Street and it is there I shall miss him most. I spent a day there this week and it was so eerily quiet – no sounds from next door, no music, no expletives, no chatter and no visits with his knowing grin as he pinched my biscuits.   He and I had ups and downs and fallings out, rows about art or my ‘helpful’ but unwanted advice about his latest painting. But though our artwork is very different, but we were voyagers together, trying to navigate the same choppy seas, aiming to complete impossible journeys.  I loved our passionate debates and discussions about art or music or politics. He had a wide knowledge of mediums and techniques he had learnt over many years. He had an understanding and respect for the painting of the past. His attention to detail and his skill as an artist was impressive and he deserved more attention than he had during his life.   Chris was a kind, trustworthy and reliable friend and a generous optimistic man with a strong personal morality that was the backbone of his work.  He was an outsider yet he was my fellow traveller and it is already lonely without him. His journey has come to an abrupt end before he neared his creative destination but perhaps as an artist his journey would never have quite ended. We just need to be thankful for having known him, shared his friendship and value the art he created. PeterTowse

Chris was a beacon of light to all that knew him. He filled people with energy and enthusiasm. He was totally absorbed in his craft as an artist creating an unparalleled body of work throughout his life. I worked alongside Chris over the years on several art exhibitions for the Telegraph Hill Festival and at Winchester College. His work always captivated the onlooker and drew them in to his fantastic world. I will sorely miss Chris, I will miss his talent, his humour and I will miss his friendship.

Chris and I spent much of our 20s together as young artists in Boston. Along with Richard Baker, ideas swirled around and between us in a constant cyclone. We were all students at The School of the Museum of Fine Arts. Chris and I also worked together as bellhops at the Lenox Hotel in Copley Square. It was a wild and wonderful time. I viewed my friends as geniuses (and still do). Now, the problem with gifted young men is that they can be prone to finding trouble. Chris and I found plenty in those years. Let me share one episode…   Chris had a passion for classical music. He was always commenting on the playing style of one musician versus another (even when I last saw him in London a few years ago). I first heard Maurizio Pollini play Mozart thanks to Chris. He introduced me to classical music in a way that no one else could have. He’s how that story goes: it was a dark winter night in Harvard Square. We had been drinking and smoking and discussing art intensely (it was never NOT intense with Chris). He decided that he wanted to play the piano and said he knew just where to find a piano. We walked into the Radcliffe campus at Harvard and went to the large double-doored entrance to one of the buildings. Everything was locked at that time of night, but this wasn’t a challenge to Chris. He locked his hands on each door handle and pulled hard. The doors opened. We walked through dark hallways and entered an auditorium. There on the stage was a grand piano. Chris sat at the piano and began to play Beethoven. No music. No light. It was honestly jaw-dropping. After a short while, we heard people in the building and surmised that it was probably security or the police. We laid down in rows in the auditorium. The police looked in and, not seeing us, moved on. We waited a while and then ‘broke out’ of the building the same way we had come in. As you’d expect, we had a good laugh afterwards (Chris’s laugh was infectious and a staple of our adventures).   Chris was a very special person. I hope that his gorgeous work will be preserved (I believe it is the work of a genius). I count myself very fortunate to have known Chris and been able to spend so much time with him. I hope he’s playing Beethoven in the great halls of Heaven. I’ll never forget you, buddy.

My deepest condolences go out to your family for this unexpected loss. I met Michael as my dear friend Stefania’s partner and own some of his breathtaking art pieces that I will treasure forever. Words cannot even begin to express our sorrow but just know that we are with you in thoughts and send you love during these hard times. Benny and family  

Chris was a great friend to me. He was a special friend in so many ways and a proper mate as well. I was also his drinking buddy, he called me that. He kept to this even after he had given up drinking alcohol.  As I drank pints of beer he would keep up with pints of lemonade. He loved pub life and this was his way showing solidarity, though he did once say ruefully”if you think you pee a lot drinking lager you ought to try drinking pints of lemonade” I liked his wry remarks, this was typical self mocking Chris and I appreciated his company even more for it.   I often went to Chris’s studio. The last time it was to see some of the new work he was making . His work method was meticulous. He had an extensive knowledge of materials would would making drawings first and then small paintings , colour schemes for each series of panels before setting to on the final painting.   A small study of a sailing ship caught my eye. it was painted gold like a religious icon, beautifully constructed and delicate like precious object. Although Chris had long ago cast off any formal religious beliefs, he certainly was a wonderfully Human person, but also to my mind, he was a Spiritual person. His Art was at least in part a spiritual quest.    Sometime after I had heard of Chris’s death I was walking in Telegtaph Hill park. It was a wild, bright October late afternoon. The wind was bending the trees and swirling the leaves onto the grass. It was the kind of day I knew Chris would have loved. I walked up the path into the park from the blue shadows of the trees into a dazzling sunset, its rays picking out the indigo outlined towers and buildings of london. Just for a few seconds the sunlight catching the tops of the darkening shaped clouds looked to my eyes like a string of lights along a seafront. It was as though I was looking from the sea at a landing site, a harbour, which was somehow exciting and thrilling ..  This was no vision or hallucination. I was doing the same as children do, making shapes out of clouds, my illusion was just a little more elaborate. But just at that moment when I thought of Chris and his departing, for the first time the feeling was not just a sad feeling.    ‘The eye is part of the mind’ wrote Kandinsky in his Treatise on Painting called ‘Concerning the Spiritual in Art’. I loved to talk about ideas of Art and Artists with Chris, we would talk about anything and everything as well. He was knowledgable about so many things, not only Art History and Theory but Science and Music too. I shall miss meeting up with him hugely.   Later that day the image of the little golden ship in the painting came to mind.   Maybe its possible that Chris has left these shores and was now setting a new course in uncharted waters amongst Magellan’s Nebulae.  I like to think so

Chris rimarrà sempre nei miei ricordi con la sua delicatezza, il sorriso ironico, la sua arte.  Quando penso a Chris ricordo con affetto gli  appuntamenti con lui e Stefania alla Tate, le cene accoglienti e affettuose nella loro casa che erano diventate un rito. Mi mancheranno. Chris mancherà a tutti quelli che lo hanno conosciuto, sempre gentile, sempre interessante. Stefano si unisce a me in un abbraccio a Stefania, Michael, Harry and Tom and Zoe.

  I knew Chris as a partner of my dear friend Stefania. Whenever I was with Stefania he was always present, always there on the phone, finding Stefania, making sure she is ok and coming home soon. Always present with his extraordinary paintings on the walls. When the pandemic started we saw Chris every Saturday when he and Stefania kindly did the shopping for us and we would talk in front of the house. Chris always there with his gentle, wicked, beautiful smile. I still can not believe that he is not here with us anymore. I will always remember him and cherish those times. Our love goes to Stefania and her family. Anna and Jan  

Our deepest sympathies to Stephania, Michael, Harry, Tom & Zoe. Imaginative, intimate & intricate – is how we’ll remember Chris’s amazing paintings & through them remember him. Whenever we encountered Chris, at his exhibitions or studio, he was quietly charming & thoughtful. He created powerful artwork & a reputation to be proud of. A lovely man. Helen & Allan

Chris was a good family friend of ours and I am so devastated to hear about his death. He had such a warm and caring energy about him, and always filled the room with his infectious laugh and huge smile. I want to remember Chris as someone who I could openly talk to about my creative projects with and always showed his full support and interest when ever we would delve into one of my projects. He was also a really good friend to my mum and dad and I remember every time him and Steffi would come over for dinner my parents would go on about how lovely and kind Chris was. We will miss him a lot and his amazing painting sits above the sofa hanging on the wall in our living room. Thank you Chris for being a good friend to my family and a great farther and husband. We will miss you, sending all my love and condolences in these tough times. Lots of love Mikki and Claudia Rao Hackett xxxx

I worked with Chris and through this got to know him, he was a very unique guy, completely unlike other people around, he had the air of calm thoughtfulness which was hugely comforting to be around, and showed kindness in a way that I’m not used to seeing in the work that we do, i think about him often and am grateful for having met him Simon h

Chris, geniale, imprevedibile, intenso, mai banale.  Ci parlerà di te la tua arte, ci consolerà il ricordo dei momenti vissuti insieme.  A Stefania, Michael e Zoe tutto il mio affetto in questo difficile momento. Daniela

Whenever I think about Chris the first thing that comes in my mind is his smile, the same sweet smile I will keep finding in Michael’s. I also remember our wacky conversations filled with laughs caused by my goofy English and his creative Italian. We have lost a beautiful person, and it is still difficult to accept that. I wish I could be with you today, I hug you from the bottom of my heart.

The earliest memories I have of Chris, I find those to be the best to remember him. Around twenty years ago I met my uncle and his children for the first time, during summer in Sardinia, and I was fascinated by this big man, playing in the sea with the kids, happy like a kid, splashing and throwing them around. And my first talk with him, I was no more than 10yo and was watching him drawing a leaf of the fig tree in grandpa garden, he was so patient with all my questions, trying to be as comprehensible as possible to an italian kid. May we all remember him with the sweetest memories, Sergio

It is so sad such a nice person and talented artist is not with us any more. His smile and intense look will be in our memories forever. Our love to Stefy, Michael, Zoe and the rest of the family. Anna and Gavin

I met Chris maybe 2 or 3 times when I was visiting my good friend Stefania. I always thought what a handsome man he was. But what I was really struck by, was his amazing art work that adorned the walls of their living room. Particularly there was a very large painting that mesmerised me. Apart from the technical skill and detail I loved this powerful gothic, unsettling feel he created. Over the years I thought about this painting from time to time. I think to make that kind of impact is a sign of a great talent. My deepest sympathy to Stefania, Michael, Harry, Tom and Zoe and everyone else who knew and loved Chris. X

Chris I will always remember how kind you were. You allowed ‘Bang & Bollocks’ to take over your studio even though you were shocked and somewhat appalled by the work we were making. But still you shared your creative haven with us, even letting us showcase our work from there. You came to see many of our creations and it was always great to see there. Thank you for the support you showed us over the years.   Your paintings have a depth of colour and are often filled with many aspects of raw humanity and life. The technical skill of your art work is a testament to your determination and passion. I look forward to seeing them again.   You will be remembered by many and missed by many more.   Sending love to you and your family.   Ellie x  

A great person, whom I always met with a lot of pleasure.   My deepest condolences to Stefania, Michael and Zoe.

While I didn’t know Chris well, whenever I met with him when I was with Stefania, I was always struck by his calm nature, lovely smile, his kindness and his graciousness at picking Stefania and me up at some late hour and driving me home. I know how much love was shared between him and Stefania. Sending love and sincere condolences to Stefania, Michael, Zoe and all the family.

The funeral service before us is running late- starting a bit later probably about 15.30

Deepest condolences to Stefania, Michael, Harry, Tom and Zoe. Lots of love

I will always remember his kindness. Sending my biggest hug to all of you!

Chris was a gentle, charming, beautiful man inside and out. So calm and friendly. Always waving from his bike as he cycled by. He decorated our kitchen once and it’s the best paint job we’d ever seen. Our heart goes out to his dear family. Taken far too young. With love Max & Phil xxx

Chris, Stephania and Michael were the first family we met when we moved to the Hill. I met Chris and Michael in the park after school, Michael and James played and we would sit and chat for hours. Earlier this year I used to run into Chris a lot, we always had so much to say that we would stop and chat for a half an hour. He was a lovely person. He was also a great artist, I loved his paintings. He had a passion for his art, he was not pretentious. The day before the accident, I was standing at the window and waved as he went by, but on that occasion, he did not see me. It is with great sadness that I am writing this and know that all those who knew him will be shocked with the news. Stephania, Michael, Harry, Tom, Zoe take care. Catherine, Graeme and James x 

Chris was able to brighten your day with a smile or a wave in his own special, breezy way, like no one else. His kindness and his unique, free nature and the way he always wanted to help made him a special friend and neighbour. And I will not forget him.

Stefania cara, un abbraccio lungo, lungo.  

We just saw Chris’ funeral online and want to send condolences to all of those friends and family who are grieving Chris right now. It was a lovely, heartfelt ceremony.   Paul and I met Chris through a series of coincidences. When we moved to Waller Road, in 1993, Paul’s sister, who lived in Boston, noticed our new address and wrote to Paul, saying that she knew an American guy called Chris Greene, who also lived in Waller Road. American friends were is short supply in London for my husband, Paul (born in California) and we were delighted to meet up with Chris, Abbie and their little boy, Harry. Our first child, Franklin, was born that same year and Chris’ second son Tom was born (very rapidly in the bathroom) a short while later. It turned out – weirdly – that Chris and Abbie had been at Paul’s sister’s (very small) wedding in Boston five or six years before that and so we guess that Paul and Chris had met then…although neither remembered the other. For a couple of years after that introduction, we enjoyed a great friendship with them and their close neighbour/friends, Zanne and Dave and I still treasure those memories of our first friends in Telegraph Hill.   Later we found friendship with Stephania and got to know Michael and Zoe. Poor Michael had to put up with me being a teacher at his school and probably hoped to avoid me whenever possible! We got to know Zoe through her marvellous stints at the TGH productions and her incredible performance at one of our daughter’s cabaret events. We got tips from Stefania when we went to her Sardinia and had a great time at her recent big birthday event, where we managed to to turn up, all dressed up, a week early and then again on the right day. They were a lovely, modern family, spread out across France and England and I know that Chris loved them all very much.   Chris’s status as an artist was without question and we were rather in awe of his talents. Every year, at the exhibition during the festival, we would always hanker after buying one of his paintings but we never had quite enough money to buy one, much to our chagrin. We loved his painter style, his surreal take on things, the melancholy, the humour. Anyone who is lucky enough to own one of those paintings will cherish it. I know that he was very modest about his art but he was one of those people whom we always thought of as ‘the real deal’.   I always found Chris shy but friendly and keen to wave as he headed down or up the hill, usually on his bike, passing our house on Jerningham Road on his way to somewhere. A few weeks ago, I gave him a wave as always and thought my usual thought: ‘I wonder what he’s been painting lately. I’d love to see more of his work’. Sadly, that’s the last time I saw him. I’m really sorry that Chris’ life was cut short by an accident and I know that he will be missed by so many people. I will always think of him as an integral part of our community, though he’s not with us anymore.

I met Chris and Stefania a few years ago through a mutual friend. We bumped into each other a few times. Once Chris and I would start to chat about art, politics, well…. anything really, it was always a spirited, hilarious, informed and entertaining chat. He was a curious mind and a humble listener – great traits for fascinating chats. Farewell to a unique human. Love to all.

Ciao Chris, la tua arte ci accompagnerà per sempre.

Love you Chris, so long my friend

I don’t possess the ability or creativeness of the extreme eloquence of all the tributes given here in recognition of an amazingly beautiful soul. Chris connected with my family through my late mum, Caka, and was continuously mentioned and respected and known as ‘Amerikanac’ (the American). Chris is the only ‘Amerikanac’ that I have ever befriended and whose impact on my life I will cherish to my last. Physically Chris has left us, has left his lovely family, won’t be around anymore, won’t see his face or hear his voice- but he will always be with us in our hearts of everyone his soul touched. I’m deeply sad of Chris’s passing but am overwhelmingly glad of his existence. My sincerest condolences to Chris’s family and loved ones.  

I remember working in Chris’s studio a few summers ago. I remember, when I first enterd it, feeling in awe of the space and the traces of Chris’s artistrery surrounding me. I remember looking through his paintings that layed piled in the corner and being struck by how they managed to fill the room with so much energy and beauty in such a subtle way, simply through their presence. Just like Chris.   His paintings held a secret power, the same power one could spot in the back of Chris’s eyes when he spoke. There was always a mysterious smile hiding in his eye. There was always kindness and elegance hiding in his voice and movements, no matter how quick or loud. I remember the days in Jermingham road, the dinners with the family, Chris some times quiet and others full of stories and advice but always a warm and unique presence. He could fill the room without words. I will never forget what I learned from him about moving in this world as an artist and for this opportunity I will always be grateful.    Dear Stefania, Micheal and Zoe,  I think of you with all my affection and stand close to you in this moment.   Dear Harry and Tom, I only got to know you through your father but I send you my deepest and most sincere condolences.     Alice 

Chris was reserved and modest yet had a particular presence that somehow marked him out. He was attentive to what was around him and how he presented himself. He was not a fussy dresser in any way but he was always well turned out. Even when working in his studio he always wore a beautifully clean shirt and an impressive pair of highly polished brown brogues.   What ever he did it was done well, without fuss and never ever done in a hurry, whether it was painting a wall or painting one of his extraordinary detailed and complex paintings.   He was a thinker and took a deep interest with what was happening in the world; following current affairs and politics carefully particularly that of his native America. No matter how great his concern though, he never let anger get the better of him and in the seven odd years that I knew him, I never once heard him raise his voice or have a bad word about anyone.    He was philosophical in his outlook on life and quietly observed humanity with a mixture of amusement and curiosity. When life was proving difficult, he had an ability to never let it get him down. He would just shrug, laugh it off and keep going.   He was often reluctant to talk about his own paintings but was always open and enthusiastic about other artist’s work . Whenever he popped into my studio for a look at what I was doing, his thoughts were always honest. He was often encouraging and sometimes full of praise but if he felt he had to be critical, it was always carefully thought through and reasoned.   He was generous with his time and would go out of his way to help others. I, for one would often ask his help, having locked myself out of the studio yet again. Without fail I would be met with screwdriver and his wonderful smile.   He spoke often of Stefania and his children. He was clearly proud of them all and loved them dearly.    He was a wonderfully talented artist, a good man and a good friend. He will be missed enormously.

Tribute to Chris by his brother John   Dear Chris,    Now that you are gone, I see more acutely the place you always took, and will always take, in my heart. My big brother – you have been there from my earliest memories: the rough housing and wrestling, the poking fun and teasing one another, the deep conversations, and the lighter ones, the joys and pains in our lives, and all the joking and laughing; the early morning walks to hear the birds’ dawn chorus, the marveling at nature, from a sunrise, or the color of the sky, down to the most mundane. Nature was the greatest artist and you found all her work beautiful. You opened my eyes to so much, you let me see the world, and life, and people, and my life, and everything around me so differently.    I can not fathom that you are gone.    I miss you so much. I love you so much. Thank you for everything.    John

Tribute to Chris by his son Harry     The memories of Chris I treasure are from my 20’s, I had moved back to London to a flat just down the road from his place, in the evenings we’d sit on the stoop and drink cans of beer and talk and talk. I remember Steffie’s place always smelling of cappuccino, I can see Chris sitting at the kitchen table right now scratching at a piece of paper making art as we talk. One day he took me to the studio to paint my computer box, it was good to spend time with him in that way, I felt so relaxed being with him and I was happy to be able to bond with him as an adult, to get to know him as an equal. He never tried to be a ‘dad’, he was just happy to be in my life, as happy as I was to be in his and I respected that. When I heard that he had passed I felt terrible because he’d called out of the blue about a month before and I was very busy, in the middle of doing something and I’d had to put him off. I started to feel very sad that that was the last contact I’d had with him when I suddenly remembered it wasn’t, he’d called again two weeks after that while I was in a junk yard looking for car parts, we talked as I walked round and I showed him the old cars on face time, I was showing him my world and what was particularly good was that I was able to introduce him to my girlfriend, I’m glad I had that opportunity. I’m going to miss him, a lot of people are going to miss him and a lot of lives are going to be a little bit poorer without him around.

Tribute to Chris by his son Tom     I first really got to know Chris when I moved to England for boarding school at the age of 15. I hated school at that time, had no friends, and lived for the weekends, where I could get away, and soon, as often as I could, I would get the train into London and stay with Chris and the family who would so kindly take me in. What I will remember most about my relationship with Chris was the walks we would take, Chris seemed to enjoy avoiding public transport, and would be happy to spend over an hour walking to a destination rather than 10 minutes spent on the tube. At the age of 15 I remember thinking, I’ll put up with it, as long as we get to where we are going which was usually somewhere fun. But we would talk the entire way and laugh and have great time on the way, and I realised I much preferred that, to wherever we ended up going. So that became what we would do, go for long walks and talk the entire way, catching up and discovering London. it was very easy to talk to Chris, he always had something on his mind, and had one of those infectious laughs, that would seem to set you off as well. Years later, after not seeing Chris for some time, when visiting, I would suggest we go somewhere, “but we can walk there”, and he would always seem excited with that part, likely not interested in going to a part of London he has seen a thousand times. So, we would spend the day walking an outrageously long time, getting food on the way, and walking back, often with the day turning to night, as we got back to the house or stopped at a pub down the street. Looking back on it now, those are some of the best days in my life. Since moving to America, Chris recently started to call me out of the blue, and we would just spend the time talking over the phone, sometimes for hours, always sparking some kind of debate or another and the time would fly by so quickly. The last time we spoke was about 3 months ago I believe, while I was giving driving lessons to my wife. Had i known then that that was the last time I would have the chance to speak to him, I would have wanted to tell him how much I valued the calls, the talks, the long walks throughout London and how much I will miss him.

Tribute to Chris by his son Michael     Dad’s Eulogy. This is probably the hardest thing I have ever written; It makes me sick thinking about this let alone writing how I feel. What happened was so unexpected and shocking that even now, a month and a half later it still feels like a bad dream which I’ll wake up from. It feels as though next time I go home I’ll find my father sitting in the kitchen chatting with mum. I can only hope that the funeral gives me some form of closure. I’m sure my father would prefer I not grieve and instead focus on the great times we spent together. I would like to begin by remembering how my father changed from when I was a child to now. He made huge strides in his mental health, he gained much greater control of his temperament, and became much happier and calmer with age. Despite his shorter temper, he had always been a great person with whom to talk to about anything. He was so very insightful and always provided a new and interesting perspective, which is terrible to think I will live without. He was a selfless man who tried to help whoever needed it. He would always go out of his way to help people, showing me the importance of empathy when dealing with others. Just writing this, shows me how important my father was to my development and makes me wish I can be half the man he was. My father is the person I look up to most in the world and in a sense was my world for most of my life. We spent every day together to the detriment of his career. He would always put my needs before his own. He would take me to the park for at least an hour after school daily, as he thought it imperative a young boy exercise every day. I will always remember when he would take me to the park: he would walk around, draw the trees or collect leaves, whose colours fascinated him. My father was also very didactic and principled; he made me keep my promises like playing football or keeping my word on a bet, no matter how trivial. I remember when I was a child, he would often take me into town to see the galleries and we’d take the ferry across the Thames. Otherwise, we would go to the pictures in Peckham, then as a treat he’d take me to Burger King, and we’d share a snickers bar before hopping on the bus back home. As a child, I could never appreciate going to museums and galleries, but I do remember when we went, just me and him in my first year in university, to the National gallery. He was so insightful and we spoke so much, where I gave him my opinions, that intrigued him, and he taught me a lot about the history of art. We had meant to make that trip again, but circumstances hadn’t allowed us to. My final afternoon I spent with dad was the weekend before. We had a great time, we went to Ikea, then we took the car ride home to Hove together and spoke the whole time. We then spent the afternoon and evening making all the furniture we had bought. We were listening to music, joking around and having a great time. He didn’t leave for London until past 10 o’clock, that was how dedicated he was to helping me. As soon as my father was gone my flatmate commented that we must have been having a great time as we’d been laughing and joking with each other the whole time. While we hadn’t spoken directly, we were texting the day he passed. He told me how he’d had an accident on his bike in the morning, which had worried me very much. I told him to be careful and he said that he would be, and texted, about cycling, “you take your life into your hands.” I loved my father and I don’t feel life will ever be the same, however, I am thankful that I have lots of people who care about me, who have been and continue to help me through this saddest moment. 

Dearest Chris…. I don’t know how long I’ve known you, it seems like forever. Maybe 25 years. One of those constants in my life. So full of enthusiasm and energy. He re-inspired me. So many times, I’ve started home projects and run out of steam and Chris came to the rescue. Re-inspiring me and doing all those jobs that needed perseverance and concentration. All he needed was tea and biscuits and a good chat. And those chats, better than finishing my decorating. Any subject, he had his own store of information and questions. He painted my windows, tuned my piano, plastered my walls, refurbished my bannisters, tiled my roof, insulated my attic, and shifted my fridge. I asked two mates to come round and help him with this last one. He arrived early, took one look, lifted it on his own, walked it to the front garden and returned for the tea and biscuits. My… he was strong. We are going to miss him like mad but our memories of him will all be good and we shall not let his enthusiasm wane. We think of him often. A great great friend. Ian and Ruth Findlay

We miss you so much Chris. You were always kind and generous, and helped us in so many ways. We, like everyone else, miss your chats, your liveliness and enthusiasm, refreshing honesty, consistent interest, in so many things. You were so much a part of our lives, such a good friend, mentor, critic; in the best and helpful sense.  It is a terrible loss, and hard to take in that you’ve gone. I guess we don’t want to, but we are much the richer for knowing you. Claire and Jeremiah x x

 

I only met Chris a year and a half ago. We met for the first time in film industry where we worked together, in the summer of 2019, in a bright workshop with skylight and 40 degrees Celsius inside, to continue at the studios, for long days in almost blind green lights, but cooler. From our collegial relationship without realizing it we became friends, probably talking about painters, paintings and art in general. Out of curiosity I came to see for the first time some digital photos of he’s paintings, which simply left me very impressed..so I have invited myself to he’s studio. The answer was yes, yes…but only for that day. The next day Chris was running away from me. I wondered why? (I later found out that he didn’t wanted many people to know about and what he was painting) Chris, Chris, I want to see your artworks…(no answer). Chris wasn’t talking to me anymore. Well, after a few tries, I gave up. But not completely. Harry, my other friend who was working with us, came “to help” with a great idea about how to get to he’s studio. So Chris needs to be tracked on his way home to find out where he lives. Finding out where he lives, spying again and following his path to the studio, where I will break down the door, one day, and so we can see the paintings… Nothing worked out. In the end I had to tell him my whole plan, he laughed and looked into my eyes and said: ‘I don’t think you’ll be able to step into the studio, it’s chaos and canvases are all over up to the door.” So our friendship started…   I will always remember Chris and I wish him good luck with eternity.   P.S.1 I have attached below some photos from the last time I saw Chris, 1st July 2020, Tate Modern river side. Fresh out of the wing of the first Lockdown, a little depressed, but full of hope, watching a pigeon that showed signs of life in a London cornered by the virus.   P.S.2 I never got to see his studio, which makes his mysterious paintings and working space even more mysterious and his personality and presence will now become even more subtle.   With love, Mircea Dragomirescu

  Chris was a true and dear friend who will be missed by all who knew him. His casual display of knowledge concerning his craft, his willingness to advise others and encyclopaedic knowledge of art history made him a valued confident. Both Chris and I began in the states but ended up in London., like Chris, grew up in London the US, Chris with this in common conversations often descended into discussions about growing up in the 70s, family and politics. My partner Claire and I welcomed Chris into our home with offers of such issues as well as a supply of jalapeño corn bread. We know he has left a large, blended family both here in London and in the US. Over the last 15 years or so we knew him he became a close friend. It’s impossible for many of these friends to make sense of what has happened. It’s the disparate and lasting nature of these friendships that must work to support Stephania and and this family in any way we can.      Chris Greene: the Painterly Subversive   Literate, numerate, often amusing and occasionally subversive, the paintings of London-based artist Chris Greene successfully combined the traditions of Western art with contemporary high and low culture. In his work, the supposed gulf between abstract and figurative art becomes meaningless as Metaphorical Realism demonstrates the lingering power of his finely crafted paintings. Much of his work draws upon the literary and artistic canons of Western art. The fantastical characters that share the stage with everyday folk in his canvases embed us in a world of myths and legends; a world far more threatening than the safe, Disneyfied fantasies of most mass media. Chris Greene’s characters – be they bug-eyed or all too human – suggest that not all stories have a happy ending. A curious mixture of the musical vocabulary of a Tom Waits, the menagerie of Hieronymus Bosch and the anger of Goya. To achieve this artistic tour-de-force Chris Greene combineda background in contemporary oil painting with explorations into the past techniques of the European Masters. Methods of preparing canvases, often following complex geometries based upon some obscure 16th century theory, while using traditional pigments and painting techniques all lend his work a familiar, if rarely seen, power that reminds the viewer of Hogarth or Stanley Spencer. This is not to say that Chris Greene was content to return to the past by demonstrating his mastery of techniques that most painters can only dream of. Closer inspection of his work will quickly dispel the viewer of any doubts that this work is somehow ‘safe’. His work is amusing, thought-provoking and essentially subversive. Many artists attempt to shock the viewer with poorly executed references to contemporary street slang, advertising or entertainment. Others withdraw into a private world of abstraction or self-analysis that is immune to interpretation. Chris Greene’s work had the ability to transcend much of what passes as art today through its ability to shock, amuse and inform the viewer. London is the art world’s bazaar. Through it passes an endless stream of valuable masterpieces,being traded like so many football cards. Meanwhile, artists like Chris Greene worked away at producing art that transcends the fashionable, or the safe, in a remarkable way.  

Tribute I read at Chris’ funeral, I think the video wasn’t a great connection. We hope to gather more of us together next year. Look forward to seeing you in person, thank you for sharing your memories. Its hard to put into words a tribute to someone who has been with you your whole life. I think of Chris both as a simple and yet complicated person, I guess like anyone when you see them closely. And Chris liked to really look at things closely, observe minute details and form an opinion, which he could tell you about with a lot of enthusiasm. I think Michael has definatly inherited his dad’s energy and love of debate.There was a whole phase when Chris first got an ipad where our sunday dinners were punctuated by fact checking on the internet. Although Chris could passionately talk about a lot of things he had a few things he himself had really studied in detail. He was always coming up with the best way to do something, something that him and mum had in common. His own unique methods to do many handy things, often involving glue– he was an expert at breaking and in turn seemlessly repairing. The thing I connected most with Chris was his love of colour. I developed an observing eye and love of colour from him. Since I was a child he used to ask my opinion about which specific shade I liked the most, if I could distinguish the different blues in the sky or browns in the earth. I have now literally inherited his colours, a huge oil paint collection of colour sets which he mixed himself, studying colour theory, and trying to replicate in paint the endless colours of nature. I haven’t painted with oils for over a decade, but i think now I better get started. I am still looking for a manual to his paint legacy. The multiple colour charts, wheels and tubes exemplifies how detailed his thinking was on colour. And the simplicity and modesty of his frugal character is shown in the fact that the paint containers were recycled tomato paste tubes. He ate a lot of tomatoe puree… or did he just eat it to get the tubes ? I’m not sure. Either way he never wasted anything thats for sure. He was always on the move and ready to do anything for anyone. Generous.The sounds I associate with Chris are his big heavy boots bounding up the stairs, or running down again, off to get something you mentioned in passing you needed to get hold of, he was off out to help you—- the click of the lock as he left without warning. It is still a shock how he left us so abruptly. Chris had lots of odd habits or tropes and traits but retelling them doesn’t quite capture him as a whole person. It doesn’t begin to illustrate the depth of what we liked and loved about him. I tried to find a poem, but googling funeral poems I found a lot of akward poetry. Apart from this one. Seperation Your absence has gone through me Like thread through a needle. Everything I do is stitched with its color. We all feel Chris’s absence. Thats why we thought to invite you to walk through One Tree Hill with us after the service. One of his favourite places. We can look at the different shades of colour of the autumn leaves and think of him, how he would try and replicate the exact tone in paint.

Chris was my neighbor for almost 20 years. I have a very vivid memory of the sound of his voice saying “Hi Katie” if I happened to open my door as he was entering or exiting the building. We often chatted on the doorstep and he was someone I’d often see out and about on his bike in the community. I got to see his incredible artwork through the upstairs window every time I arrived home. My deepest sympathies go to Stephania, Michael and Zoe. I’m sad I am no longer local in order to offer support in person. How wonderful Zoe is an artist and can put Chris’paint to paper and full expression.

Chris was curious like a child. He was wise like an old man. His paintings encapsulate such deep knowledge and understanding of humanity. I miss him terribly as a friend, we shall all miss him as an artist who illuminated us. Alexander Frehse

Tribute I read at Chris’ funeral. Chris was my friends. We were studio neighbours and also used to work together. Chris was a kind person and always wanted to help. Once I was looking for a specific paint to use and he recommended me a colour. I wasn’t sure if to buy it or not. However, the next time I saw him he came and said I have something for you and gave me the paint that we were taking about. That was Chris.  He always wanted to help and give. He was also good at listening and was always interested to hear my story. Chris was a brilliant painter and a craftsman. He would make charts of colours and apply it to his work. I remember once in his studio he showed me a painted card that was spinning on a drill. I was amazed. He then explained that with the spinning card he would determine the colour on his chart. I don’t remember exactly how it worked but it was something like that. In a similar determination and knowledge, he would also create characters and describe them in detail in his paintings. His last project that unfortunately was left unfinished was a tale accompanied by paintings. It is based on the story of Adam and Eve in the garden of Eden and how the snake encouraging them to eat from the forbidden fruit. He used that as a metaphor for the story of the Explorers who discovered new land, how they exploited it and forced the people that lived there into slavery.   It ends in catastrophic events which led by the over farming and over grazing of the soil and the desertification of earth. This mythology that Chris created in his last work is important and relevant to the events that we are experiencing in our world today and I hope we can learn from it. In that sense, the sudden loss of Chris is not only devastating to us, the once that loved him, but also a great loss to society.

I am deeply saddened to learn only yesterday that my dear friend Chris has passed away. I lived on the same street as him for about four years around 2004-2008. I considered him one of two best friends that I had at that time and kept in contact with him until a few years ago. I was hoping to reunite with him on my next visit to London, but sadly, that cannot be. We shared many good times together: drinking down the Hobgoblin and other local pubs; hanging out with our friend Kelvin and the blues band; at my sister’s house recording music in a strange tempo; sitting in my car in the rain discussing our relationships; sharing our revelations about 911 and other world events; going to parties and generally hanging out. I loved his paintings, especially the huge ones at his house. I was privileged to see him at work in his studio and to witness his process of ‘underpainting’ which I’d never seen before, but was a technique of the Great Masters… I loved him as a friend and feel heart-broken that he has gone from this world, but now he is perhaps experiencing the ‘Samsara’ which he wrote a song about and which I helped him record. My deepest condolences go out to Stephania, Michael and Zoe, who I hope to see again soon when we can share our memories of a truly wonderful man.

A much loved friend who I sadly lost touch with. We faced the Chernobyl cloud together, worked on a children’s’ book and like many others who knew Chris, had so many wonderful conversations. A great artist and good human being. So very sorry to hear of this tragedy. Condolences to all the family.