Terry Durham answered my first question, what brings you to Alora,
before I’d even asked it, as he readily agreed when we met one
sunny morning in February, that it was a lovely day, probably the
reason why we were here in Spain. My other questions were left unasked
as well, although they were all answered in full, as I realised when
I skimmed through my list towards the end of the interview.
Artist, singer, writer and, without doubt, storyteller, which was
the name of his folk rock band in London in 1970, Terry was so easy
to talk to and so interesting to listen to that the two hours we spent
chatting together in the sun, refreshed by cups of tea and a light,
cooling breeze from the mountains, went by in a colourful flash. |
Smoky's
That Shack
in Brazil |
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The press release for Terry’s
Berlin exhibition in January 2000, called Angels, Myths and Magic,
said the following:
Terry Durham opens the door to the unconscious and paints the stories
across the threshold, all he asks is for the observer of his work
to step across that threshold, to see and listen with their eyes and
to hear the stories. |
Terry, who was born in 1936
in the Yorkshire mining village of East Ardsley, said that he hated
the dark and the grime of the mining village and as a result developed
a love of strong colours which he uses in his paintings. Being mainly
self-taught, he feels no constraints and no boundaries, he follows
his feelings and his instincts. ‘I don’t know where it
comes from, what made me do it in the first place.’
Terry started painting as school in 1948 at the age of 12. He copied
a photograph from a magazine of the Prime Minister Clement Atlee.
‘My dad didn’t think much of my painting ability, but
my mum sent it to the Prime Minister’s office and we got a letter
back saying thanks very much. A letter with the Westminster stamp
caused quite a stir around our way and I got my picture in the local
paper. Later, after I had sold two paintings, I began to understand
my own talent. I went to Cornwall for a while and then the Isle of
Scilly, before going to live in London in 1963, when the hippy movement
was beginning. People’s reactions to my work started to encourage
me. I went to evening classes and developed my own style. Being in
London at that time liberated me. I got involved in the music scene
and wrote words to music. I made an LP in 1969 with a 30-piece orchestra,
the music written by John Colman. It was called Crystal Telephone.
We didn’t have any success, but we had a good time and I made
lots of good friends, like David Bowie, when he was a painter, just
before he made it big in the music world and I was also good friends
with Bill Wyman. |
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Last year, when Terry had arrived in Spain
after visa problems had forced him to leave Brazil, he mentioned those
music days to a friend, telling him about the band he had formed called
The Storyteller, which had cut two more albums. His friend tapped
Terry’s name into an internet search engine and there was a
picture of him, 30 years earlier. The album Crystal Telephone had
been re-released on CD, no one having being able to contact him to
tell him about it.
´ I’m not wild about rap,’
he said, ‘but there was a good review of my music by someone
they call the granddaddy of rap and, when I come to think about it,
perhaps my early music, mainly spoken words to tunes, was a kind of
forerunner to rap. I was thrilled to see that a lot of people like
it and a new audience had been born. It gave me a real lift.’
Terry rang up the man who had released his music as a CD and the response
was equally uplifting. ‘I can’t tell you how wonderful
it is to hear from the man himself.’
After living in London, Terry had gone to live in the Algarve, where
a Jamaican friend of his called Smoky had a restaurant near the beach.
Terry covered every available space of the walls with his paintings
which then became a feature in its own right. His reputation grew
and so did the list of his exhibitions, including London, Leeds, Croydon,
Yorks and Bradford. He then had exhibitions in Portugal and Berlin,
while building up a name for working on full show to the public at
his studio in the Quinta do Medronhal Garden and Landscape Centre
in Santa Barbara. Terry did not mind interruptions and was happy to
talk about his philosophies and the themes in his work. |
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Terry loved living in the Algarve, but his love life
was not so rosy. ‘I have a talent for painting pictures and
for losing women,’ he said as he explained that it was the break
up of his third marriage that set him looking for pastures new. ‘Smoky
had gone to live in Brazil,’ he said, ‘I was feeling very
low and he suggested I went out there too.’
And Terry was enthralled with the country. ‘The people there
were lovely,’ he said, ‘it was a totally multi-racial
society and the atmosphere was wonderful. I made some very good friends.’
Once again Terry painted his friend’s restaurant, That Shack,
and then continued to paint inside, at the same time coaching a young
talent called Kaiki. ‘I told his mother that if Kaiki hadn’t
got any parents I would have adopted him. We got on so well together.
His mother, a tiny, beautiful lady, who was married to a huge round
man known as the Watermelon Man, told me that in actual fact Kaiki
had taken the initiative and had adopted me. I miss him and all my
other friends in Porto Seguro and I hope one day to return.’
Terry had outstayed his welcome by at least 18 months and although
the locals signed a petition, he was given 8 days to leave the country.
Now he plans to live in Spain, at present lodging with a very good
friend from their Portuguese days, called David, who Terry refers
to as his hired help and transport manager. ‘Your agent too,
don’t’ forget,’ said David with a wry smile. Living
in Brazil without a visa meant that Terry couldn’t travel, which
was very restrictive, and there were also logistical problems that
prevented any exhibitions in Europe, actually resulting in the cancellation
of a planned third exhibition in Berlin. ‘From that point of
view it’s better that I stay in Spain for the moment,’
he said, ‘although I was very happy in Brazil. I often say to
people that when I’m painting it’s as if there’s
a dialogue between me and my work. If I can get the painting to talk
to me then it’s working. Let me tell you, in Brazil my paintings
began to sing to me! But I’m happy here in Spain and I am working
on new paintings and there is going to be another exhibition in Berlin
at the end of this year. I’m enjoying my work a lot. Sometimes
I feel like a conduit, a channel, the painting is waiting there, ready
to be painted and it just comes through me. I know that my paintings
are spread all over the world and it’s important to me because
I want to share them with people. And on the music scene Terry is
still writing and expecting to continue doing so. ‘I sang with
a rock band in the Algarve and performed at my art exhibition in the
Berlin bar gallery called The Little Light in the World, which I dedicated
to the late George Wallace, a bass and guitar player who used to accompany
me in the Algarve.’
Terry prefers music venues and restaurants for his exhibitions rather
than galleries which he sometimes finds a bit sterile. ‘I suppose
you could say that my paintings are my real backing group. Music is
important to me, that’s for sure,’ he said, ‘and
it goes together with art, but art is the life blood. It’s like
a pulse.’
A self-confessed outsider in the world of art, and happy to be so,
Terry is soon to celebrate his 70th birthday. And how does he feel?
‘Young,’ he said, ‘my mojo’s still working.’ |
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