http://www.myspace.com/johnnycole1
I had heard of the artist Johnny Cole long before I met him. Mutual friends would speak of him and his work with reverance, though always tempered with tales of unhinged derring do.
We were finally introduced about 12 years ago, and I was instantly struck by his exhuberance and passion, and became a fan of his unique art. He probably ended up hanging from the window of a tower block by his fingertips. And I probably helped haul him back in.
We share an interest in many of the same books, films and records. We have a particular love for London, unknowable London, and our east London specifically. We often introduce each other to new things that we have read, seen or heard. We often have completely polarized views about some issue, and will resolve it with a wrestling match. Of sorts. When we meet up, which is usually by chance, we vie for air space. It is a masterclass of interuption and digression. Only on Thursday night I bumped in to him on Bethnal Green Road. We repaired to Kempys for a shouting match. Then to The Sun where the barman chided Johnny for disappearing in to a taxi with two full pints on his previous visit. Johnny turned on the charm and made a gift of one of his books to the gentleman, who, it turned out was familiar with JC's work, and pronounced himself a fan! It must be nice when that happens.
These books are probably what Johnny is best known for. They appear out of nowhere. They document the inner workings of a singular mind. They are at turn insightful, moving, disturbing and hilariously funny. The pages of his books are informed by every aspect of Johnny's life, from his early childhood, right up to whatever is going on in his world right now. No matter how painful. Imagine a punch up between James Joyce, Henry Micaux and Spike Milligan at a primitive African Art fayre and you're nowhere near to what Johnny Cole is. Whether it be in an intricately detailed book or on the wall of some whitewashed warehouse, no canvas, it would seem, is too big or small to contain some facet of Johnny Cole's vision.
As I have said I tend to bump into Johnny, rather than arrange outings. It seems to suit us. I chanced upon him on the Roman Road while I was taking my boy to get his hair cut. Johnny introduced us to a public house called The Bouquet which was new to me. He's good at sniffing out old school boozers. And the time I encountered him and his bike (He's always with a bike) in Seabright Road and we went to the nearest pub where Johnny introduced me to legendary costermonger Peter (brother of James) Herbert. I think we planned to ghost write his life story, and then forgot about it.
On the inside pages of Johnny's books he sketches the covers of the books and records that have accompanied him on the journey of the making of each edition. I was delighted to discover that "Blake Songs" by myself and Jo Clack appeared in one edition. I asked Johnny to sign my copy, which he did. It was some time later that I noticed he had also added an extra large comedy penis to the Blake Songs cover. On Jo, by the way, not me!
If you are going to Lattitude this week, you may want to track Johnny down to the woods, where he will be creating works. Or go to his myspace page and have a gander and say hello.
Paul x