![]() ![]() He sent a small, rather naïve-style painting of a Panama-hatted man to the Portal Gallery, which specialised in exhibiting naïve painters similar to Alfred Wallis. I later found out that he exhibited at the Portal Gallery not far from where I was based in Mayfair at the time. At that point, Byrne was trying to earn a living from his painting – he’d attended the Glasgow School of Art from 1958 to 1963, where he was awarded the Bellahouston Award for painting in his final year – but had a difficult time until he had a brilliant idea. Leader showed me the cover of their new album: I thought it beautiful.īill told me it was an artist who went by the name of Patrick. Along with his then singing partner Billy Connolly, they were called The Humblebums. I first came into contact with his work when I met the folk music producer Bill Leader back in the late 1960s – he had just produced an album for a relatively unknown singer called Gerry Rafferty. The reason I was at the home of John Byrne was because he is not only a brilliant writer, with The Slab Boys, Your Cheatin’ Heart and Tutti Frutti with a BAFTA award for the latter to show for it, but he is also a wonderful painter. It involved me in meeting and working with an extraordinary array of artists, designers, and photographers, from Bridget Riley to Antony Gormley and from Don McCullin to David Gentleman. It was probably one of the most challenging and wonderful projects of my life as a designer, and I relished the prospect. This was to be 48 individual stamps to tell the story of the past thousand years. So why was I here? I'll explain.Īt the end of 1997, the then design director of Royal Mail, Barry Robinson, commissioned me to design and art direct Royal Mail's contribution to the millennium celebrations. "Would ye like some tea?" said Byrne in his distinctive Scottish tone. We arrive at a small sitting room that seemed to double as a studio. We move along a narrow passage with paintings, drawings and framed textiles from floor to ceiling. It was like a scene from Look Back in Anger. He puffs gently on a roll-up and ushers me in amidst the howl of crying babies and the rear view of a woman in a bathrobe, ironing. This is the Scottish playwright John Byrne. I ring the bell at my destination and am greeted by a warm and weathered face that would not be out of place in a crofter’s cottage on the Orkneys. ![]() It’s a warm summer evening in 1998 and I am approaching a small block of red-brick flats just before hitting Sloane Square in London. ![]()
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