THE COLONEL
The Colonel was a collector. He was thought to collect art but actually collected butterflies and, so goes the tale, he was appointed dean at a cocktail party. At least, that was the story told me when I first went to Washington, DC.
I knew the Colonel had once purchased a painting and that was the reason for me being in America. A few years earlier, in 1964, I had gone to Leeds College of Arts and became senior lecturer in painting. The head of the Fine Art Department was Eric Atkinson who, one day, got surprise letter from the USA. The writer was the dean of the Corcoran School of Art. In his letter, Eugene Myers said that he had purchased a painting of Brighton pier from an exhibition at the Royal Academy of Art in London. A young student, Eric Atkinson, had painted the scene in an academic, realist manner. Subsequently, unbeknown to his patron, he had developed into an abstract painter and was teaching at Leeds College, one of the most avante garde colleges in Europe. The letter said that Dean Meyers wished to suggest an exchange program between his institution and Leeds. Obviously, there was interest on both sides of the Atlantic for such an exchange. Unfortunately, the concept was based on misconceptions and misunderstanding from the very beginning.
In the 60s, Leeds College of Art had developed a reputation as being one of the most advanced colleges, thanks to an outstanding faculty led by a Harry Thubron. The term “basic design” was given to the course associated with Leeds yet the philosophy and teaching encouraged innovation and individuality as in no other school at that time. Visiting artists ranged from Yoko Ono to Walter de Maria and students were involved in many forms of art from film to performance. On the other hand, the Corcoran represented the most conservative and predictable approach to teaching art that seemed to pervade the entire United States, that is another story. Suffice to say this was not known on either side of the Atlantic and the discussions went ahead based upon misconceptions.
After discussions with the faculty, Ricky asked me whether I would consider going as I was the person most eager, willing and available to take a year off as an exchange teacher. Agreement was reached that I would go, for the academic year 1967/68, to the Corcoran as visiting Professor in painting and in return a faculty member of the Corcoran would visit to Leeds.
The teacher from Corcoran arrived at Leeds railway station and, in advance, we have been told that he would be wearing a tartan jacket and green trousers. To say the least, he was most noticeable on the station platform in the drab dullness of Yorkshire. The artist, another retired Colonel, shall remain nameless and was not the avante garde American artist that we expected, for his interest was in the misty mountains of Ireland not the hip art of the moment. Again, there was total misunderstanding.
However, the coming year in America was to change my life in many ways. Let me start with the story of the day, in early September 1967, that I arrived at the Corcoran, to be told the Dean was too busy to see me. I saw him in his office, scribbling away, and found out later that he was writing out invitations to a cocktail party at his house. I was not invited. The Colonel was a socialite, renowned for escorting rich ladies to social events. His faculty despised him. I was angered by the fact that I had nowhere to stay, with no arrangements for accommodation or anything in regard to my arrival. On the other hand, my counterpart was renting my huge Victorian house in Yorkshire, enjoying the comforts of my home and studio. I was outraged at the lack of any welcome. Fortunately for me, a member of the faculty was in the office and invited me to stay at his apartment. The faculty member was Brockie Stevenson, an anglophile, who offered me “a nice cup of tea”. Although I do not drink tea, most unusual for anyone from the old country, I accepted his hospitality. Without his kindness and friendship in those first few hours, I might well have returned back to England. My impressions of the Colonel were to worsen over the next few years.