La Chambre 25.5cm x 30.5cm. Coloured inks on drawing card £200


Let me welcome you into my bedroom, in Plaza Larramendi, Leioa, circa 1990. Around the walls are:

. . . a photo of Van Gogh's La Chambre, not actually taken by me but by a travelling companion in the Louvre back in October '84


. . . one of my drawings, Mrs Moses, now on show in another Gallery


. . . a poster in Basque from a famous-at-the-time advertising campaign to stop dogs shitting on posh Getxo pavements. I didn't live in posh Getxo, I lived in dingy Leioa, but I pimped my English-teaching body, soul & tongue in posh Getxo, which is where I ripped the poster down. The poster read (or rather, the cute, posh-looking Getxo pooch in the picture with the pen in its mouth had written). . .

"Ondo hezitako txakurrak ez dio inori kalterik egiten"

or a well-reared dog harms nobody. Of course, a Spanish version of the poster was also printed, but I only made off with the Basque one.

. . . sketches that would lead to a Morgens drawing you can see in their gallery, Jesucristo en sol minúsculo (la fase final)

 


. . . Irish whiskey miniatures that would star in another drawing in this Gallery, and whose labels would end up on my homemade Irish whiskey clock

. . . and a post-Hillsborough, anti- Sun poster which I'd picked up on a visit back to Liverpool and had plastered all around Getxo & Leioa (as I did with the No Poll Tax posters). The circulation of the Sun in Leioa & Getxo has never picked up since my little campaign, I'm proud to say (and nor did the poll tax get introduced in Spain, so another victory to me!)


. . . a Ronald Searle cartoon called Zorro. . .

 

. . . featuring a snail leaving its slimy trail all over an indignant cat. This drawing has always accompanied me. In fact, that same tattered old photocopy is still on my bedroom wall today . . .

 


. . . my home-made seagull quills. See here and here for more quilly info. My teddy bear is also in this shot.

 

Boy, the things we've been through together & the stories he could tell you. . .

 

  . . .especially about him being dressed up as a Basque-speaking parrot, sewn to my shoulder in the '88 Romo fiestas (here in the doorway of the Zuga). . .


And all of this information and history is squeezed into a tiny little drawing of a tiny little bedroom. I wonder if Van Gogh could have told us as much about the contents of his chambre