84
42 New Briggate Gallery, Leeds 08/2007.
84 is partly reconstructed memory from 1984. The memory was never that clear to start with. I was eight it was the middle of the miners strike and I had been sent to Holland for the summer holidays to be looked after by the Squatters movement based in Amsterdam.
One night we were led through the back streets until we came to, what seemed to be, a disused building which stood silent and apart. At the top of some steps was a huge solid wood door framed by an ornate entrance. One of our guardians banged hard on the door and a hatch opened. Some Dutch pleasantry's were exchanged and we were let in. As we stepped out of the near perfect darkness of the street we were lead into the bar via a long corridor and down one entire side of that corridor were baseball bats racked neatly one after another, each accompanied by a gas mask.
My thoughts often return to this brief period in my life. The country seemed to be at war, my community and family were divided and we had nothing except each other. I have never been happier.