Art is something that has fascinated me since childhood. Although I am no painter, art was one of the few subjects, along with drama and English, that I truly enjoyed at school.
Two of my favourite Spanish artists are Murillo, whose realist portraits of flower girls, street urchins, and beggars I find irresistible; and Julio Romero de Torres, the Cordovan artist whose symbolist style portrays a reflection of Andalusian customs and traditions. His sombre painting titled Cante Jondo (deep song) is one of my favourite Spanish works of art.
My early fascination with art began with Francis Bacon, for I found his raw, unsettling imagery somewhat arousing.
The screaming faces in his series of Popes (based on Valázquez’s portraits of Pope Innocent X), and the Study for Three Figures at the Base of a Crucifixion confused me as a youngster. Did these eerie paintings actually reflect Bacon’s character?
Art critic Michael Peppiatt claimed that ‘it would be no exaggeration to say that, if one could really explain the origins and implications of this scream, one would be far closer to understanding the whole art of Francis Bacon.’
Although I have yet to come across an artist of Bacon’s calibre on the Costa del Sol, I have interviewed several eccentric, or bohemian Brits whose works have appealed to me in some way or another.
One
was a retired Scottish art teacher called Harry Stewart. Harry was spending a
few months on the coast with his wife Sandra, and we struck up a friendship
based on our mutual love of art and music. In the short time that I knew Harry,
he became someone to whom I reserved great respect, especially for his
incredible ability to produce life-like creations with a piece of charcoal.
Harry was something of an anarchist, although his
views had apparently softened with old age. At the age of 67, he loved nothing
more than to spend his days painting or drawing, while also indulging in the
odd cannabis joint and a glass of rum.
Our first meeting happened in a small Irish pub in
Montemar (Torremolinos) on a wet and windy Monday afternoon. We began chatting
because we were the only two people in the bar and we quickly became interested
in each other’s stories.
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