'Man on a Bridge' © 2007 Bob Dylan
I had this little fantasy that, while I was walking round the Halcyon Gallery's exhibition of Bob Dylan's artwork, the great man himself would suddenly appear alongside me, asking: 'So, 60 Going on 16, what do you think?' For some strange, inexplicable reason, it didn't happen. I guess something cropped up. Standing just inches away from his paintings (and his signature) is, therefore, probably the nearest I'll ever get to my hero.
Someone commented on The Times website this week that they'd grown up listening to Bob and now they were growing old with him, which is just how I feel about the man, his words and his music. And, as I was going to be in London just a couple of days after the Drawn Blank Series exhibition opened, there was no way that I was going to miss it. I even put on a posh new silk frock for the occasion. I'd told everyone that this was because I was going to an awards ceremony at the Science Museum that evening but, really, it was for Bob. Shame he wasn't there to see the effort I'd made. Bob, you don't know what you missed.
But what of the artwork? Honestly? Well, some of it I loved, especially two series: 'Woman at the Red Lion Pub' (those who know where I live will appreciate the resonance) and the 'Man on a Bridge'; Bob can also deliver a pretty mean still life and there was a real poignancy to his paintings of railroad tracks and hotel rooms. Only the head and shoulders portraits failed to impress; however, this is a very minor grouch. (Can you tell that I studied art history? Would I get a job as an art critic? For serious background commentary, I'd recommend Alan Jackson's interview with Bob Dylan, The Times, 6 June 2008, which also describes the genesis of the Drawn Blank Series.)
Apart from the exhibition itself, or two exhibitions to be precise - one at the Halcyon's main gallery in Bruton Street and the other in New Bond Street - the Bruton Street Gallery is a very fine space in which to look at paintings, with all the perfect proportions, not to mention obligatory marble staircase, that you might expect from what was once a private Georgian house. Only a handful of people wandering from room to room, all about my age and, obviously, (we do recognise the signs in others) Bob Dylan fans. What better way to while away an hour or so?
The gallery's enthusiastic young staff seemed genuinely excited about the exhibition. As one of them said, almost in a whisper, 'It's history in the making, you know.' He's quite right - because history isn't just about politicians and royalty and who started the war . . .
For a couple of thousand pounds I could have had my very own piece of Bob in the form of an unframed, signed print but, even if I had found myself with amazingly deep pockets (which I didn't), everything had already sold out. Everything that is, apart from the beautifully designed and printed - and affordable - hardback book of the exhibition. Which explains how, an hour or so later, I came to be sitting by the Serpentine, drinking tea at the Lido in the late afternoon sun, and wondering whether the people at the next table realised that the woman alongside them had a slice of history in her bag.
How I envy you! I have a couple of Damien Hirsts, do you think someone might do a trade?
Posted by: Maureen | 19 June 2008 at 05:25 PM
I did once see Bob in concert but was a bit disappointed as he didn't sound anything like he did when we used to listen to his albums in the lunch breaks at school. But I do like some of his paintings. Oh yes, I hear Leonard Cohen went down a storm in Manchester. Wish I'd been there.
Posted by: Liz | 19 June 2008 at 06:09 PM
Jealous OR WHAT???!!
Posted by: Kalk Bay Friend | 20 June 2008 at 04:26 AM
Lucky you! So pleased to find someone else who admires the towering genius, greatest songwriter of the twentieth century and background to my life that is Bob Dylan as much as I do.
Posted by: Barbara | 20 June 2008 at 11:14 AM
OK M - where have you been hiding those Damien Hirsts?
Liz - I'd rather listen to Dylan on vinyl, CD, downloaded or whatever, through headphones than at a concert these days. The last time I saw him live was in Birmingham about four years ago; his backing band was brilliant but I couldn't make out a single word that he was singing and, on every tour, he reinvents everything musically, so that even diehard fans don't always recognise an old favourite. Having a hearing impairment doesn't help, of course - all the words become bit of a blur, sadly. (Which means I probably would have sat miserably through Bruce Springsteen and Leonard Cohen too.)
KBF - I'm sure you were with me in spirit.
Barbara - there are plenty of us out there!
Posted by: 60 Going On 16 | 20 June 2008 at 11:41 AM
How very interesting. I had no idea Dylan painted. I love the Man on the Bridge. Thanks for the link to the Times article which I missed.
Posted by: Susie Vereker | 20 June 2008 at 07:00 PM
Susie (and others): if you happen to own either or both of the Self Portrait (1970) and Planet Waves (1974) albums, then you'll find examples of Dylan's early artwork on the covers. If, like me, you've still got the original vinyl albums, you could frame the covers and hang them on the wall!
Posted by: 60 Going On 16 | 20 June 2008 at 07:54 PM