Unpacking Boxes and Finding Lowry
I have always been involved in art in one way or another since I was a child. I was destined to take part in a creative field as I was surrounded by artists, musicians and writers as I was growing up. My father was an art critic, writer and artist and he was also a dealer too. I remember growing up surrounded by Lowry pictures and the finest Art Nouveau, both subjects my father wrote books on. One being a series of definitive tomes on Lowry and a book on Art Nouveau, entitled Liberty Style. I can remember Dad coming home with packets of drawings by Klimt and Schiele. Dad told me in later years that it was possible to buy these drawings for £150 at auction and sell them for £200. That was the going rate and also a time when the auction rooms were only populated by dealers and those top collectors in the know. It is not what it is today where everyone has access to buy in the rooms. Times have certainly changed and the boundaries have moved.
Because Dad was so involved with Lowry I would occasionally travel with Dad in the holidays to see Lowry at home when they had business to discuss. I was an avid autograph collector as a child and took my autograph book everywhere with me. On one trip when there was a lull in the conversation, Dad nudged me and said in my ear, “Ask him.” I took a deep breath and produced my autograph book and approached Mr. Lowry, “Please could I have your autograph, Mr. Lowry?” “I don’t sign autographs, young man…” Crestfallen, and feeling embarrassed, I shut my book but the moment hadn’t finished. “But do you like these little drawings?” One was of a boat scene and the other was a typical figure and strange dog. I stammered a reply in the positive and Lowry picked them up and handed them to me, “Then you better have these. Much better than an autograph.” I thanked him profusely and Dad and the generous artist continued their discussions.
Dad went to the Royal College of Art and drawing never left him. He would draw people he met and Lowry was no exception. These reportage photos were taken by the photographer Crispin Eurich, who was the son of the painter Richard Eurich. Dad and Crispin worked together a lot during the 60’s when Dad was editor at Studio International. Recently, I finally began opening boxes of my parent’s belongings, which had been in storage for many years. I have been gradually archiving the cultural pieces and a whole slew of Crispin’s photos appeared from his time with Dad, including these images with Lowry. He was a fabulous photographer and perhaps his reportage approach to working with Dad rubbed off on me as I became a documentary maker when I grew up. You never know where influence may have appeared in life but this may be one of those points.
Every time I see anything by Lowry it takes me back in time to childhood. For a man who had a reputation as gruff, who could be tricky, I always found him kind in his dealings with a young wide-eyed boy. I will always be on Team Lowry!
Recently I discovered this postcard by Lowry, which is now up on the site.
Footnote: And what happened to the little drawings I hear you cry? Well, for the sake of transparency, I sold them in my teenage years to buy my first electric guitar and amp. If I remember rightly it was a Framus SG. I loved that guitar and the racket it made. It changed my life. Do I regret selling them in hindsight? No, not at all. Those pictures took my life in a new direction and one which would determine a particular and different future for me. So thank you Mr Lowry.