I've always been a nostalgic fellow. I am always surprised when people talk about the 70s as if it were some kind of ancient era; it seems like no time at all since those sunshiny days of throwaway pop. Except I didn't throw the pop away. I fell in love with ABBA. There, I've said it. It wasn't cool then and it isn't cool now. But I loved their music, joined the fan club, hung up posters, queued to see their movie, bought their records.
Now, today, the ABBA museum opens in Stockholm; it will be full of memories for millions of visitors. But here are some pictures that will not be on display:
my first published illustrations...
At the Benjamin Britten high school I worked as Art Editor on the school newspaper - that was my first introduction to publishing. Issue 1 of "The Voice of Britten" featured ABBA on the cover and an article (which I also wrote) with more illustrations inside. It is extraordinary to look at these pictures again, drawn (rather badly!) in early 1979. No computers, no photoshop, just drawings photocopied, text typed on a typewriter (!!!) and stapled together. I was 14 years old and Agnetha and Bjorn had just announced their divorce. I remember being SO worried that there would be no more music to come.
A year or so later more music DID come: The Winner Takes it All - Agnetha's favourite song. And I entered a drawing competition in the ABBA magazine to promote it. I didn't win, but as a runner up, I got my drawing published. It was a heady moment! And I knew then, that publishing, and illustration, was something I loved.
Time passed by. ABBA went their separate ways. The ridicule I faced back in the 70s for liking them, has never gone away. So much music snobbery still exists. Whether they were good or bad is irrelevant. I liked them, and that's all that matters.
So what is the enduring appeal?
I think, in a way, critics just got them all wrong. Because so much of their music isn't really light and happy. The melodies may be, but even early songs like S.O.S are filled with minor chords and sad lyrics.
They were a band who wrote about kitchen-sink relationships; about love and the trials and tribulations. And pre-teens with their first crushes related to that. ABBA educated a whole generation on matters of the heart. Their 1975 Greatest Hits album cover, with the immortal "park bench" picture (like a denim clad photo-picture-strip from Jackie Magazine), says it all really. Plus the fact that Agnetha and Anni-Frid really could SING.
If I could, I would be there in Stockholm to present the museum with
these artifacts, and meet Anni-frid, Benny and Bjorn as they cut the
ribbon. Meanwhile, Agnetha has a new solo album out next week - and is in London, not
Stockholm, promoting it and reminding us all why we fell in love with The Girl with the Golden Hair... (I wonder if her grandchildren would like a set of illustrated books...)
But instead, ironically, I am working on images for Benjamin Britten's opera, Noye's Fludde. So both parts of that prophetic school newspaper have yielded a result. But ABBA helped me first. Thank you for the music? of course, but thanks also for the inspiration. From ABBA to operatic set design, via 25 years of children's book illustration, is a big jump - but that initial springboard was as bouncy as a 70s pop song.
PERPECTIVES... a Cheltenham based Arts magazine asked me to rustle up a cover for their latest issue, in celebration of the forthcoming festival. The brief was to try to show a new perspective (!) on classical music, to emphasise the strong family events programming of which I am guest director. The idea of art for all is not new, of course, but I am personally deeply committed to finding new ways to surprise an audience and show that classical music (in this instance) isn't just a big boring exclusive club for grey elephants, but that a little mouse can join in and be important too, both on the stage and in the audience.
