Richard Kingston, artist and engineer, will by remembered for many things,but mostly for giving life to homeless and decrepit Jaguars, says Hugh Oram
Richard Kingston, a well-known Dublin landscape artist who died recently, probably restored more Jaguars to prime condition than anyone else in Ireland. A master craftsman, he revelled in doing all the restoration work himself, not just the engines and other mechanical parts, but the bodywork, too. This was tinkering on a truly epic scale.
He had been brought up during the hungry 1930s on the family farm near Wicklow town and as a teenager he tended the Ferguson tractor on the farm with loving care. He studied engineering at Trinity College, Dublin, but sadly, the family's money ran out and he was unable to finish his studies.
After the second World War, Kingston worked in London for some years as a teacher and designer before returning to Ireland.
His first car in Dublin was a real old banger, with cardboard for glass in the passenger windows. It emitted fierce clouds of black smoke and was positively dangerous, but the young man often gave lifts home to some of the local gardaí and that kept everyone sweet.
By the time he was 40, he was able to start his car restoration work with a vengeance, as well as pursuing his painting career. His last full-time job was as a designer with the old Swastika Laundry in Ballsbridge, Dublin, where he redesigned all the shops and created what were then very innovative posters to go on the sides of the vans. In those far-off days, laundry vans with a swastika emblem could sail around Dublin without a trace of embarrassment.
Kingston took early retirement from the laundry job when he had just turned 40 to become a full-time artist. He spent his £500 "golden handshake" on a Jaguar. He was absolutely passionate about Jags and bought a whole succession of them.
His first Jag was stolen and never recovered, but that didn't diminish his enthusiasm. Many needed substantial restoration and, at one stage, he had a collection of five, all in deplorable condition. He promptly cannibalised the entire "fleet", getting together enough bits and pieces to create one Jaguar in splendid condition. He restored up to a dozen Jags in his time, setting a one-person car craftworking record, certainly for Ireland.
But, if there wasn't a Jag to hand, any old banger would do. A pre-Second World War Austin and a Sunbeam Rapier were just two of innumerable other cars that returned to life through his unique skills. On one memorable occasion, he rescued a car from a skip - there wasn't much left except the chassis, but Kingston brought that back to his studio, amid all his paintings, and rebuilt the entire car. Only then did he realise it was too big to be driven out of the studio, so a wall had to be demolished.
His widow, Jennifer, herself an artist, says that her husband simply loved seeing how things worked and then putting them back together. His favourite restoration work involved timberwork on the older car bodies. She admits hating "all the cars around the place, but I put up with them".
He was a very quiet, gentle man and, for him, relaxation meant disappearing into his workshop for a spot of restoration work.
Apart from Jags, Richard Kingston had a particular fondness for MGs. The last car that he kept was a beautiful specimen, from the heyday of the classic British sports car. This particular MG, which he kept in absolutely pristine condition, has white bodywork, chrome bumpers, green radiators and green upholstery. He bought it in 1992, 40 years after it had been built, for the grand sum of £14,000.
One of his great pleasures was driving this MG from the family home in Ballsbridge, heading for the Wicklow hills, where he had been brought up.
However, it's for all his work on bringing old Jags back to life that Kingston will be most remembered. Few enthusiasts will ever be able to match his dedication and patience in breathing life into a succession of battered, homeless old specimens.