2026 Collection

John Banovich
Forest Watch, 2025
oil on Belgian linen
9h x 12w in
22.86h x 30.48w x 1.27d cm
$ 6,500.00

When I set out to paint Forest Watch, I wanted to bring viewers into the quiet world of a gorilla family. In the forest, life moves at its own rhythm. Feeding, resting, and always keeping watch. As I worked on this piece, I thought about how their eyes carry so much meaning: curiosity, caution, and the wisdom of life in the wild.

The forest itself is as much a part of the story as the gorillas. The tall bamboo and thick green leaves create both a shelter and a stage for their lives. To me, this scene is about connection, the bond of family, the protection of the forest, and the unspoken exchange between those who watch and those being watched.

John Banovich

Cape Buffalo, 2025

Pencil

9h x 12w in
22.86h x 30.48w cm
$ 2,500.00

John Banovich
Dappled Light, 2026
oil on Belgian linen
10h x 10w in
25.40h x 25.40w x 1.91d cm
$ 6,800.00

I painted "Dappled Light" as a quiet moment in the woods, when sunlight slips through the trees and settles gently across the forest floor. The light moves in patches, warming the leaves and falling across the deer’s back, as if the woods are momentarily at ease.

The buck stands still but calm, alert without urgency. His body catches the light in soft bands, shaped by the branches above him. He feels aware, but not threatened. In the corner of the painting, a tree stand sits empty. It’s Monday morning. The archer isn’t there, and the deer seems to know it.

There’s a pause in the woods, a sense that this is a safe moment, borrowed from routine. The forest feels familiar again, and the deer stands comfortably in that calm, surrounded by light, shadow, and the quiet confidence of knowing he’s alone.

John Banovich

Lion Sketch, 2026

Black Conte Pencil

22h x 30w in
55.88h x 76.20w cm
$ 7,900.00

John Banovich
Shared Waters, 2026
oil on Belgian linen
30h x 30w x 1.25d in
76.20h x 76.20w x 3.18d cm
$ 45,000.00

In “Shared Waters,” I wanted to capture a moment of quiet convergence, a place where life gathers not in conflict, but in mutual need. Water is the essence of life in Botswana, and when the floods arrive, it’s known as the season of “Pula.” It draws the largest and the smallest together, binding them in a fragile, unspoken agreement.

The painting itself became part of that story. I positioned the viewer at the water level, as if you, the viewer, were actually part of the story. I framed the scene through the curve of an elephant’s trunk to invite the viewer into the water itself, to stand at eye level with this shared moment rather than observe it from a distance. The splash at the center is intentional, as a pied kingfisher emerges with a small fish, leading your eye into the scene and reminding us that the wild is never static. That gesture reminds me that even in moments of calm, the wild is alive with motion.

This painting is my reflection on coexistence. In a world that often emphasizes separation, the natural world continues to show us something else: that survival, beauty, and balance are found where paths intersect and precious water resources are shared.

John Banovich

Female Leopard and Carmine Bee-Eater, 2026

Black Conte Pencil

21h x 30w in
53.34h x 76.20w cm
$ 7,900.00

John Banovich
At the Edge of Dawn, 2026
oil on Belgian linen
13h x 16w in
33.02h x 40.64w x 1.91d cm
$ 12,500.00

At the edge of dawn, there is a brief pause, when night still lingers, yet the promise of light begins to reveal itself. In this moment, the world feels hushed and watchful. I wanted this painting to live in that threshold.

The bull elk stands alert, powerful and resolute, his antlers cutting into the cool morning air like a crown shaped by time and survival. Behind him, the cows emerge quietly from shadow, their forms softened by mist and distance. They are present but cautious, aware that dawn brings both safety and exposure.

The light here is not yet warm, it is restrained, blue, and contemplative. I used color and atmosphere to suggest stillness rather than movement, allowing the viewer to feel the tension and calm that coexist in wild places just before the day fully awakens. It’s the fragile balance of wilderness moments that exist only briefly before they slip away.

John Banovich
Deep Water Drink, 2026
oil on Belgian linen
11h x 23w in
27.94h x 58.42w x 1.91d cm
$ 16,900.00

I painted this moment to acknowledge the quiet risk that comes with necessity. The zebras enter water deeper than comfort allows, not out of impulse, but because thirst leaves no alternative. Their bodies are partially surrendered to the river, stripes dissolving into reflection and depth. In this crossing, balance replaces speed, and stillness becomes survival. I was drawn to the tension between need and danger, the way life in the wild is often sustained not by abundance, but by calculated exposure.

John Banovich
In the Footsteps of Giants, 2026
oil on Belgian linen
9h x 12w in
22.86h x 30.48w x 1.91d cm
$ 7,300.00

As I watched this bull elephant walk toward me, I was reminded that I was quite literally standing in the footsteps of giants. His path had been worn into the land long before my own, shaped by generations that know this place far better than we ever will. There was a calm certainty in his movement, a quiet strength that needed no display.

The acacia trees and Mount Kilimanjaro behind him felt timeless, as if they were holding the memory of every elephant that has passed through this valley. Painting this moment slowed me down. It reminded me that to follow in the footsteps of giants is to move with humility, respect, and care for a world that does not belong to us, but one we are responsible for protecting.

John Banovich

Male Lion Sketch, 2026

Pencil

8h x 10w in
20.32h x 25.40w cm
$ 2,100.00

John Banovich
The Last Crossing, 2026
oil on Belgian linen
20h x 26w x 1d in
50.80h x 66.04w x 2.54d cm
$ 27,500.00

Looking out across the open plain, I thought of Craig, the great tusker of Amboseli. I pictured him emerging from the tall grass, his long tusks nearly touching the ground, his presence unmistakable against the wide landscape and the distant rise of Mount Kilimanjaro. For decades, he embodied the true spirit of the wild—steady, resilient, and shaped by time. Above him, birds drifted across the sky, unchanged, as the land carried on around him.

Born in the early months of 1972, Craig survived decades in a world where so many of his kind were lost to the ruthless ivory trade. He became one of the last of the “super tuskers,” his ivory tusks weighing 125 and 145 lbs, as he wandered his ancient routes beneath Kilimanjaro’s gaze.

In this painting, I’ve frozen a single, silent moment: he pauses at the edge of memory and myth, a lone wanderer touched by the golden warmth of the grass and the cool hush of approaching dusk. I wanted his presence to feel monumental yet peaceful, an ode to his storied life and the many calves whose futures he helped shape.

Craig passed away in the early hours of January 3, 2026, his molars worn down with age and his great body weary from years of roaming free. Rangers and guardians kept vigil by his side through his final hours, honoring a creature who gave so much to the land he called home. His death was not sudden or violent, but one of old age. A reminder of the beauty that remains when wild things are protected and allowed to live out their lives in peace. Craig’s journey becomes a peaceful step from the world he knew into the legacy he leaves behind.