Celebrity and loss
Icons for Icons
the Jesus effect
Ive decided to blog the journal which maps what has happened since June. my favourite clip is manchester medleyIcons for Icons
the Jesus effect
Frank died on the 21st june 2010
Frank Sidebottom made me remember home.
Francis made me remember me and you thenFrank Sidebottom made me remember what home was
Sidey got me into troubleFrank made me forget what home is
Sidebottom is becoming a metaphor for something
else.
Monday June 21st
I first saw news of Frank’s death on Mon. 21st June (the day he died) after reading a friends tribute on face book. Over the next few days I recognised some of the emotions I felt after my father’s death, the numbness, urge to do something or get busy and the need for information. Both events are totally unrelated I only met Frank a handful of times and never really kept up any interest and I had kept in touch with my dad regularly. They both died of cancer and they both made me laugh I suppose I was fond of them both in different ways. Frank will be buried at Altrincham Crematorium, the same country field where my dad lies.
Mark radcliffes tribute.
Mark radcliffes tribute.
Franks funeral
Why would Frank Sidebottom’s death affect me at all? I’m a 37 year old dad of 3 for God’s sake!
He was after all not real, a man in a mask who kept his identity secret till he died. I’ve been scouring the internet for days to try and affiliate myself with the countless tributes and personal stories of fans trying to understand the loss of Frank. I’ve listed many common attributes fans have associated with memories of Frank.
- humour-surreal, based on his appearance and references to Timperley
- personal touch-would talk and give time to anyone
- devotion to fans-spent his life entertaining and making art for his fans
- talented artist-characters based around Max Fleischer cartoons, created his own genre.
- local-Never left Timperley or changed or aged, always 35
I’m jealous of their history with frank and I feel like I should have been more of a fan. Now that he has gone I want contact with him. I want to try and explain all the feelings I cannot explain, the reasons why he was so great. How frank affected me! I adapted W H Audens poem and posted it on his website later that night.
160for little frank
Stop all the clocks, cut off the telephone,
Prevent Little frank from barking with a juicy bone,
Silence the casio and with madchester shuffling drum
Bring out the coffin, let the northerners come.
Let aeroplanes circle moaning overhead
Scribbling on the sky the message Big Frank Is Dead,
Put Alty Robins bows round the white necks of the scruffy
doves,
Let the footy stewards wear black cotton gloves.
He was my North, my North, and my Look NorthWest,
My chuckling week and my Sunday jest,
My noon, my midnight, my talk, my song;
I thought that Big Frank would last for ever: I was wrong.
The popstars are not wanted now: put out every one;
Cave in the papier mache head and eat the last currant bun;
Pour away Timperly and sweep up Broomwood.
For nothing now can ever come to any good.
I couldn’t, not go. I had missed the last twenty years of his performances. I had been poring over reviews and video footage of Frank and had decided he was to be the catalyst for my last year of art.
I was going home- not to see my dad –but to say goodbye.
My journey from altrincham to timperley on the way to castlefield
I missed so many moments of family and friends events whilst living in the midlands; I suppose I felt guilty for not being there. Attending Franks send off might exonerate some of it
I thought I would have some sort of epiphany at his memorial; all of a sudden Frank would be resurrected and come to me in a vision. This did not happen. It happened later.
James H reeves tribute.
James H reeves tribute.
Doubting Frank 10.12p.m. July 8th 2010
It was really bizarre-too much of a coincidence to let pass. I left the farewell just before the end (I travelled all that way and left early?). I’d wanted to recreate some going to town magic so I’d parked the car in Alty and got the tram up to the G-Mex.I’d left early to escape the finality of goodbye, the emptiness of letting go. The night became Henry Lamb’s “Death of a peasant” the exact moment when Frank would exhale for the last time.
 |
| Timperley station after the brick |
Was it the spectre of Frank resurrected throwing half bricks at all those daring to miss the farewell finale?Or the now lost and lonely little Frank, running amok in the Timperley ghetto?
It didn’t resolve things. I still didn’t have a clue what I was expecting to happen, some announcement about the next event? Or how to cope with a loss that shouldn’t register?. It felt like the end of the party, the end of a film that you only caught the end of. I was unsatisfied. If Frank was there he would have got off the stage started a conga and kept it going well into the small hours.
Reflecting on goodbye
I felt the same at my dad’s funeral. Not wanting people to leave, as if all the people there combined to make up all the parts of my missing dad. Feeling proud and strong ,surrounded by stories and memories which all began to dissipate as taxi’s arrived and the music ended. Empty paper plates and buffet detritus mirroring the void that now lay ahead.
People shuffle on
Don’t they realise he’s gone
5000 people file out
“He’s still dead” I shout
What happened to the memories the loss?
The funeral, crowd and collective
Death is instant
And loss is subjective
The Gospel according to me, Mallorca July 23rd
I needed to tell people, explain about Frank and his ways- is this how the disciples kicked off? Were they so upset at the big man taking the fall that they needed to spout off in every taverna from Jerusalem to Jericho about what he did and his little puppet?
in the words of John the Baptist "Fuck it! They will hear my shite" . An immense sense of Northernness had descended over my middle-aged midland form. The family holiday had somehow become a Timperley crusade.
Castles made of sand 25th july
I needed a talking point, something to draw the crowd and after some deliberation came to the conclusion of collaboration. Kids. I managed to borrow some spades from a French family and set about “Sand FranKcisco” and within half an hour had a united nations of under 9’s helping on the sculpture. As we worked I spoke his name and did the voice until on que, 8 European under 9’s were quite familiar with the terms
· Bobbins
· Fantastic
· Timperley
I wanted a henna Tattoo but they weren’t open at 3.00a.m. in Magaluf . This was the point I should have realised that Frank had become a problem.
The Resurrection-Iconising Frank July 6th-present
Why i can't look
How are people remembered? in song, poetry,verse,image,? i found the physical act of making ,an act of rememberence, the outcome became irrelevant.Frank had become a metaphor for my own coping mechanism with loss. I'm not ready to remember what i've lost, i don't want to look at how things were. i know, and i am not ready to remember.By attaching these emotions to the loss of someone else i can cope with loss.
How are people remembered? in song, poetry,verse,image,? i found the physical act of making ,an act of rememberence, the outcome became irrelevant.Frank had become a metaphor for my own coping mechanism with loss. I'm not ready to remember what i've lost, i don't want to look at how things were. i know, and i am not ready to remember.By attaching these emotions to the loss of someone else i can cope with loss.
 |
| frank ed 1 |
 |
| frank ed 1 and body |
 |
| waheey
|
 |
| hand of frank1 |
the park bench has long commemorated and been dedicated to the lives of ordinary people.
 |
| bench memorial in Warley woods |
Roadsign memorials
Surrey county council has given advice about the pros and cons of roadside memorials
have been set up by victims of road fatalaties to help the bereaved .they have road plaques that they believe should be able to be placed at fatal crash spots.
without this online tool and the various groups about frank much of my industry would not have been encouraged and shared.i joined
Franks fantastic funeral, lets get a statue of Frank Sidebottom in Timperley and Frankophilia
Lets get a statue of Frank Sidebottom in Timperley
Is a group of people who have developed ideas for Frank’s memorial. An artist Colin Spotforth is now in the stages of making a bronze sculpture for franks home town. I was also in the process of making my own statue when another group materialised Frankophilia- an exhibition of Frank fan art. I’ll have that I thought and like a scene from “close encounters of a third kind” proceeded to once again ignore work and family commitments to pursue artistic pleasure.
Blow up
Frank 1, my first attempt at unabashed fandom celebrated franks great arms out pose, I also had one eye on Jesus type arms out pose. It blew up in the kiln and no amount of araldite would put the pieces back. I still believe it was the technicians sabotage ( a Shuttleworth fan).
Time Team
what would people make of Frank in the future? How could his greatness be recognised when all traces of him have gone? the relics and icons from christianity heavily influenced the finish of my work and the inebriated joy exuded from Time team helped formulate how the sculpture should be exhibited-underground.
Out of the flames rose a phoenix , and GEO frank was born. I’d been looking at the Greek and Roman figurative sculpture especially those massive pieces of Emperor Constantine in Italy. Huge and slightly caricatured, they both appealed to my machismo SCALE and HUMOUR.
A friend had been banging on about geocaching for ages and it came to me in a stella haze.
· Bury the pieces of Frank
· Geotag the position
· Announce a Frank Geo cache day
· Let the Geo cachers resurrect Frank
· Let the geocachers reassemble Frank at a nearby gallery
· Let the process of finding and doing connect with peoples own experience of loss.
· Spread the gospel of Frank according to Shaw
this is still a maybe and needs a lot more thought and organising.
i decided to try another Frank sculpture-although GEO frank was a possibility i was still unsure with the ethics- hes only been gone 5 months and i'm ready to bury him and dig him up again.
i wanted to show frank on a modern memorial. the road sign
No comments:
Post a Comment