A Few False Starts
Over the past few weeks it feels this mammoth project is starting to gain traction.
For over a year since 2018 we had not been in the studio. Although Barry had advised us he was leaving and had gave notice on his lease, he continued to pay his rent. When we originally found all the work in mid 2019 in the damp abandoned studio Matthew and I were, it is safe to say, surprised. Barry had contacted us to tell us he had left this studio, he would stop payments, that he had taken what he wanted and we were to dispose of what was left.
There were lots of canvases on stretchers stacked against damp walls, on very damp floors, in annexes and one or two Barry had clearly been working on during his last days in the studio. The smell of damp was quite overwhelming and some of the canvases had pigeon-dropping damage... little additions I do not think Barry would sanction! In addition to these were canvases literally dumped into corners. They had, in the past, been on stretchers but having been removed lay akin to scrunched up paper that failed to hit the wastepaper basket target. Some of these were damaged by mould, many of the walls were covered in dark furry mould that, undisturbed for a few years, was taking hold.
Having waited almost two years to redevelop the space the landlord was naturally growing impatient. The space needed clearing, cleaning, airing and to be divided into new studios. It took many months for us to establish a clearer picture. I knew something drastic needed to happen if the work was not to end up in landfill. I knew someone had to step in and save the work... but I did not think I had any right to be that person. During those months I managed to persuade people to leave the studio as it was in the expectation we would eventually get in touch with Barry to be certain he did not want the works.
It took another six months of calling to, quite by chance, get someone to answer the phone. It was not Barry but someone visiting, following that telephone call we had a clearer picture of what was happening. Within fifteen minutes we had explained the situation and arranged for the people caring for Barry to call in and collect his things. We agreed a date. I was relaxed, convinced that the final result would be everything in the studio that could be saved, would be saved.
That feeling was short lived. Following the initial visit they told us that they would return but would be taking just the personal effects and some documents... none of the work! A few days later, true to their word David and Pamela arrived with boxes and packed up the jazz cassettes, the paperwork, some books, the Audrey Hepburn calendar; over several hours they took everything they believed Barry would want. I explained that prior to contacting them and in the absence of any other options I had been considering taking the work out rather than letting it go into skips. That faced with that very real prospect I had been considering what I could do to save it and if I had any right to take it. I explained my plan... as simple as it was; remove the work to a safe place, clean the pigeon poo off it! Photograph each piece, list it on a website I would build with dimensions, medium, year and title, or as is the case lack thereof. Barry's view of naming works is a matter of record. Out of respect for Barry's love of exhibiting his work I would then make it my mission to try and get some of his work into the permanent collections, on permanent display or on loan at institutions he has a history with. Such as Bolton where he was born and later taught, Wigan College of Art and Goldsmiths College where he studied. University of Manchester, Salford College of Art, Faculty of Art and Design, Manchester Polytechnic (as was), School of Art Institute of Chicago all of which he taught at. Then there are the many galleries where he exhibited, often many times, over the decades he was active. Finally anywhere else I could find the wide open space his larger pieces demand; I imagined those huge white backdrops you see in slick BMW showrooms and could just see a piece up there with the vast expanse of glass through which the world could see it!
I explained that in my opinion the work needed to be out and on view that leaving it to rot in dark abandoned rooms was not what anyone, including Barry, would want but that I was reluctant because who was I to do this? I explained that I hoped to donate some pieces on permanent loan, to sell some pieces and if I managed to do that to use the money to establish a fund that would pay for students to study art. They agreed that Barry would love that and believed that I could go ahead and start to realise the ambitions I outlined.
Even then, I hesitated, not quite able to convince myself that I had any right to take the work under my control, albeit a benign control. Then one day I went into the gallery, clearly the landlord had got there first and instructed some workman to start the clear out. There were piles of rubbish and I mean broken glass, gas canisters, mould, thick black damp filth all swept up against canvases as they lay against the damp wall. A few of the canvases were damaged. That was it! I know I had to strike now or continue to hesitate and allow the work to be disposed of. The people I was dealing with genuinely could see no reason not to just dispose of the works. They did not think they were worth saving. Remarkable but true!
So I did what I had been considering doing for over twelve months. I photographed the studio as we found it, hired some help and removed all the work, the old mangle and a few other items Barry used in his daily work and put it all into storage. A massive job, it took many days. Even before it was finished the demolition, skip-filling and reconstruction began around us. On one occasion I had to retrieve some canvases from the skip! By this time Faith had explored the dark hidey-hole with me and discovered the works of Joseph Burke. Julian and Nigel had been generous enough to help and to give some invaluable advice and guidance. More importantly Matthew was on board, no longer seeing the works as a problem to be disposed of, he was my partner in this daunting undertaking. I was still convinced, and had managed to convince Matthew, that this was a twelve month project... tops!
You might think having made the decision, taken decisive action and removed the works I would feel confident to just get on with it. However I still hesitated, in September 2019 all the works were safe, in storage and under my care. I made a start, did some research on the existing website, tracked down the site builder and had a conversation... that was not a fruitful conversation. I bought a new domain and registered a not for profit company... The Barry White Gallery. Again I felt that I had no authority to use Barry's name, I could not gain his consent. I bought another domain and renamed the company... The Woodend Gallery. Barry had been in Woodend Mill for over thirty years, he had set up The Woodend Artists cooperative in the 1990's. It seemed perfect. Then I discovered Wood End Gallery in Bedfordshire... time to rethink! Now another four months had passed, it was 2020 and I had done nothing more than move the work from one place to another. It was bordering on surreal, to walk into that space with so many pieces of work facing four walls... abandoned again; just in a different place.
I decided I needed to stop procrastinating; all the beautiful work sitting ignored and unloved was not what I set out to do. I was still reticent to take the ultimate control required to make decisions and do the things I had said I would. Once again ‘who am I?' crept in. By the end of January I had set my reservations aside, it was the work again that dictated to me. It needed to be out, on view, discussed. So I took a single small piece and got permission from the cafe on site to hang it there. They were delighted to home it, so off they went with it in their arms.
A few days later I went to see it hanging on the wall. Chelsey told me many people had admired it and talked about the piece… and Barry. That was the final confirmation I needed... I thought it needed a little plaque with Barry's name and the name of the gallery. So I needed a website... I built one; it needed a blog to record the story and the journey... I started one, a plaque... I made one. I was infused with a desire to act without the worry that had stayed me thus far. I made contact with the only person who seems able to get Barry's blessing, to explain what I am doing and to see if I can get his approval... though as she said he may have forgotten the conversation a few hours later. To know he approves is the last little bit of impetus needed. Then watch out world... here we come!
