the sourcerer: R.I.P. Leonard and Basil

Sunday, June 20, 2010

R.I.P. Leonard and Basil

Two of Cape Town's well-loved characters died last week. Leonard worked in many of the shops that I've frequented over the years. Be-pierced and Dali-esque, Leonard was hard to ignore. Always friendly and full of ideas. One night, for an exhibition opening, he asked a friend and I to wrap his legs in cling film. He wore those see-through pants with a tuxedo jacket.

Basil was the proprietor of Bristol Antiques in Long Street, one of my favourite haunts. He was cultured and soft spoken. He said to me once as I left his shop:"You are such a lovely young lady." I saw him two weeks ago at Ashbeys and we spoke about glass and books. He was one of the last true gentlemen.

I'll miss you both.

1 comment:

tanjawilmot said...: How very sad to hear of Leonard's passing. Basil I did not know well.

It's good to remember that Leonard lived his life on the edge, always ready to experiment, play and have a laugh. And yet, mad hatter as that he often played, the man had his wits very closely about him. Closer than most, often. He was king of the lightning fast put-down and the sharp comeback on his throne behind the counter at Bruce Tait's collection of gags, cheap thrills and eclectic finds, always ready to have a good banter. May your sense of fun live on in Long Street, Leonard.; June 22, 2010 at 2:51 PM

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You could tend a garden at night, only at night, pouring dark water onto leaves, and into the earth, like pouring midnight onto midnight. You could hold your soil-stained hands up to the moon. The stars would gleam on the bottom of the shovel. It would smell the same as a daytime garden - it would smell green, violet, red, white. But come back, in daylight. Come back, to see the colours without closing your eyes.
- Sean Michaels. Accompaniment to the song "Immune" by LOW. Said the Gramophone

Nothing is original. Steal from anywhere that resonates with inspiration or fuels your imagination. Devour old films, new films, music, books, paintings, photographs, poems, dreams, random conversations, architecture, bridges, street signs, trees, clouds, bodies of water, light and shadows. Select only things to steal from that speak directly to your soul. If you do this, your work (and theft) will be authentic. Authenticity is invaluable; originality is non-existent. And don't bother concealing your thievery - celebrate it if you feel like it. In any case, always remember what Jean-Luc Godard said: "It's not where you take things from - it's where you take them to."
Jim Jarmusch (1953- )

You got very hungry when you did not eat enough in Paris because all the bakery shops had such good things in the windows and people ate outside at tables on the sidewalk so that you saw and smelled the food. When you had given up journalism and were writing nothing that anyone in America would buy, explaining at home that you were lunching out with someone, the best place to go was the Luxembourg gardens where you smelled and saw nothing to eat all the way from the Place de l'Observatoire to the rue de Vaugirard. There you could always go into the Luxembourg museum and all the paintings were sharpened and clearer and more beautiful if you were belly-empty, hollow-hungry. I learned to understand Cézanne much better and to see truly how he made landscapes when I was hungry. I used to wonder if he were hungry too when he painted; but I thought possibly it was only that he had forgotten to eat. It was one of those unsound but illuminating thoughts you have when you have been sleepless or hungry. Later I thought that Cézanne was probably hungry in a different way.
Ernest Hemingway (1899-1961) - from A Moveable Feast.