Norman, how does it feel to be eighty-five?
Well, I don't believe it. I'm puzzled that so many other people get old, but this comes as something of a surprise. How could this happen to me?
Perhaps a little reflection is appropriate, but it's a long story. I do feel amazed, thankful, frustrated, a little proud, disappointed and from time to time totally thrilled, even though I feel an accumulation of sadness as I lose more and more of those whom I've known, loved and painted.
Perhaps a little reflection is appropriate, but it's a long story. I do feel amazed, thankful, frustrated, a little proud, disappointed and from time to time totally thrilled, even though I feel an accumulation of sadness as I lose more and more of those whom I've known, loved and painted.
I'm the shy country boy on the left, with the Hitler haircut (It was quite fashionable in those days). Dressed up for a party in Mum's home-tailored clothes.
Amazed that, despite having being born in 1933, when the Nazi regime achieved absolute power, I've survived a world war; and more recently that I've survived the daily hazards of cycling to and from my studio with (or against) 850,000 other Amsterdam cyclists; that I've made the transition from a shy Worcestershire country boy into a cosmopolitan artist; and have been enriched by so much intense love; and that I get such spontaneous joy from the surprising beauty of kinetic painting and music combined. A therapy guaranteed to keep me young.
1949 first-year Art College show. At the age of sixteen, I make my "stage debut" as a baker dancing with a cream puff and a cherry cake. Goodness, these chicks must now be in their late eighties!
Thankful to my parents who despite their reservations, against all odds set me on the road as a creative artist; for the blessings of the wonderful people I have known and loved, including my children and grandchild; for my good health and the energy to still be fully active creatively; to my body for responding so well to my simple morning exercises. Just thirty minutes and he feels ready to start each day.
A very sad and serious period in my thirties, reflected in many paintings in black, greys, white and dark browns. The explosion of colours came later.
Disappointed that despite my parents' assurance that if you work really hard you will be "successful" (meaning in the working class aspirational mind-set that you will become rich), I failed. I worked my butt off, still who knows, before I really get old....?
Frustrated because, despite some wonderful projects at the highest level, I have failed to interest more producers in the many more creative projects in my head, particularly those that relate painting to music. Ah, so many great ideas that will never come to fruition.
Chatting with conductor Simon Rattle at Birmingham Symphony Hall during the filming of the 1993 BBC TV "Concerto for Paintbrush and Orchestra"
A little proud that I have worked creatively with some of the greatest artists and musicians of my generation; that I have touched the souls of many with thousands of ephemeral kinetic images and tangible paintings; that I chaired the creation of the Visual Arts Programme of the International Baccaureate, insisting on art education conceived from a world perspective; and that I could pass on my convictions to innumerable students; and oh yes, that I have managed to earn a living as an artist.
Yes, but Norman, how do you feel right now? Well, rather tired, after months of intensive work to create kinetic paintings non-stop for seventy minutes, for a new German version of Stravinsky'sThe Soldier's Tale, in Daniel Hope's Essen Philharmonie Gala Midsummer Night's Dream on June 23rd. But thrilled that my own Dream came true on 24th., Midsummer's Day, my eighty-fifth birthday.
At midnight the after-party of this performance with Daniel and his superb ensemble suddenly turned into my birthday party, with a rousing "Happy Birthday" from everybody in the production, led by the baritone Benno Schollum. I've never felt such deep collective artistic fulfillment and generous expressions of love after a performance, where we all gave of our best, to a standing ovation - simply unforgettable. Unexpected birthday surprises during last week were also multiple proposals to work together creatively. So rather than feeling that "it's all over now", I feel re-inspired.
At midnight the after-party of this performance with Daniel and his superb ensemble suddenly turned into my birthday party, with a rousing "Happy Birthday" from everybody in the production, led by the baritone Benno Schollum. I've never felt such deep collective artistic fulfillment and generous expressions of love after a performance, where we all gave of our best, to a standing ovation - simply unforgettable. Unexpected birthday surprises during last week were also multiple proposals to work together creatively. So rather than feeling that "it's all over now", I feel re-inspired.
Happy fathers, with my son Chris and the very young, undoubtedly talented Joe Perryman
Of course I have no intention of retiring, whatever that means. It's not in an artist's vocabulary. The creative spark is still very much there, but naturally everything demands more focus, more careful planning and choice of priorities. Naturally? Oh yes, I forgot. I'm supposed to be eighty-five. Really?
(Photo Marjoke Haagsma)
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Get the whole story on my blogs going back to 2012, or from my website: www.normanperryman.com
