Monday, December 27, 2021

Photographs from Sunderland Foundation Course

There were taken by my friend Carol Alevroyianni, probably in Wylam, Northumberland. The other women are Cathy Gilbert, who I have lost touch with, and Kathleen Burton (later Snowball and now Croft), who gave me a surprise visit at the gig at Bom Bane's CafĂ© just before Christmas. There are very few arty people who don't cite their Foundation Year as one of the best years of their lives. Sunderland's Foundation was fantastic. We just did everything we could possibly imagine and more, all lubricated by a lot of cheap booze and a huge amount of energy that came from being an outsider course. 

I understand that one of the best lecturers, Robin Crozier, went on to become really famous as a corresponder. Somewhere I have postcards he sent to me when I went to Brighton Art College to do my degree in Fine Art Printmaking. He signed the concrete steps in Ryhope Park, just in case anyone noticed. I did. 

I have some photographs of us all somewhere that I should scan.

I can't believe that I've not posted much about it about it before, especially the wonderful group of men who called themselves Four Play. One of them drew life-size realistic drawings in pencil of them all on huge sheets of photograph background paper, and hung them on their studio wall. They organised an Office Party, with room-dividers sporting dull calendars, Glenn Miller music and cocktails, to which they all wore suits. They organised a Sparts Day, where in one room there was Ping Pong Poussin (you had to play the game and yell artists names at each other while you were swiping at the ball), a Wresting Match in the canteen in a proper wrestling ring where combatants whacked each other on the head with rolled up paintings, and 'Getting In To Art College' where some of the lecturers played along. You were given a portfolio with no idea what was in it, and you had to 'get in to art college'. One portfolio had nothing but children's crayon drawings in it; the person whose portfolio was filled with Van Gogh prints was accused of plagiarism.

They used to rush around looking as though they were on a mission. As for us, we were on a mission too. Some of us formed the Creep Clique and sat around looking revolting. I know I've written about William before: he was so confident he marched into the canteen once announcing in his loud voice 'William strode into the canteen. Everyone looked round to see him', or something like that. We made all manner of things with the encouragement of our lecturers, Big Sef (who had gone to Newcastle University with Brian Ferry: we were impressed), and Ken Eightfoot. We attended parties where we were out of our depth with older students. I learned how to etch and fell in love with the medium. We designed kitchens using airbrushes and isometric techniques, did woodwork, pottery, life drawing (we thought the life drawing tutor was in love with the model), made a bit of music, visited each others homes and learned about each others lives, and talked and talked and talked. I experienced the best kiss of my life. Ah, that's enough for now!




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