1968

The Byrds - ‘Goin' Back'

Ian Berry - ‘Neutralitu!'

 

Some history books tell us that 1968 was a year of turmoil and revolt. They tell that it was a year of a younger generation struggling to be heard, battling to make change. Film and photography captured it for posterity. Like in any year, it was certainly those things and more, but seeing photographs of Paris in May and Prague in August 1968 when I was in my own early twenties had a significant impact. The appeal of activism allied to a mediated vision that looked so much more appealing than what was contemporary to me. Over time, I admit, that it is the visual aspect that has had the most lasting impact. On occasion this embarrasses me, but then we cannot all be activists. We cannot all be artists. We cannot all be teachers.

 

There are many iconic shots from 1968, even if just from Paris or Prague. It is Ian Berry’s shots though that have resonated most with me, and the reason for this is increasingly wrapped up in the idea of meaning changing over time. Truths become altered through the prism of time and experience. Photographs that once told stories of harsh realities, that were primarily journalistic vehicles, become stripped of that initial intention and meaning. They become something other. 

 

Berry’s ‘Neutrality!” shot is a perfect example. Stripped of its context it increasingly becomes… what? An image of idealistic struggle? The conflict of generations - young vs old? A study of tone and composition? Or just a photograph of a pretty young woman in a stylish hat? 

 

I think it is all of these things and needs only to potentially apologise for being the latter. For it is striking when flicking through shots from these events to see just how many use the pretty young woman motif as the point of focus. I choose to read this as a comment on the nature of rebellion and revolution; that such actions are not the sole preserve of the masculine. Equally, I accept they can be read as sexist and (consciously or subconsciously) exploitative. Berry’s extensive body of work would suggest my reading is nearer the truth, for his work rarely, if ever, falls into the realm of the obvious stereotype. His work is largely joyous in the face of death; sensitive in the grip of violence.

 

And what of the young woman, frozen as an icon of youthful revolution? She would now be at least as old as the women out of focus in her background. Does she now gaze with the same barely disguised contempt at the youth of today with their social-mediated rebellions? How quickly did the activist fire in those eyes fade in the glare of pragmatic age? And indeed is it not perhaps already faltering in this photograph? Something in the relationship between eyes, mouth and setting of the head. A hint of a hesitation. A flicker of doubts even here. 

 

 

 

In my 1967 entry I suggested to you that I did not really go through a period of being a particularly impressionable youth. This is true, and when I stop to think about even my early teenage years I see only vague shadows of reason and the thinnest wisps of memories. Neither music nor art had a significant impact on my existence when I was growing up. This is not something I mention with any regret and nor is it an attempt at a double-bluff of cool. It is merely a statement of my facts. And the past, after all, is passed. Or it is a foreign country. Or something, anything, else.  

 

We had records at home. A suitcase full of 45s and 78s, mostly from the 1940s and ‘50s. Most, as I later realised, having belonged to my mother’s sister. Frankie Lane. Lonnie Donegan. I forget what else except that there were early Elvis Presley singles, and a record by The Teddy Bears that I loved. It was only years afterwards that I discovered it was an early Phil Spector production, which leads me to think that our preferences for sonic textures are somehow set early in life. How, I do not know. Magic, probably.

 

Growing up into the 1970s and 1980s then, the sounds of the sixties were largely absent in my house. Only the faintest flicker of Elvis, and certainly no Beatles or Rolling Stones. Joe Strummer would have been proud.

 

Like The Kinks I have fanzines to thank for hipping me to the brilliance of The Byrds when I was poised to slip out of my teenage years. Academics and sociologists at the time would have argued that the notion of ‘teenage’ spanned into the early twenties, however, and I like this theory. I wonder if it is a theory still held to be true? Or have definitions of adolescence and what constitutes ‘teenage’ become fragmented like everything else over the years such that there is no dominant theory, only dissonant voices that no-one listens to or cares about? Least of all you. Least of all me.

 

The Byrds came to me via some lines in 'Are You Scared To Get Happy’, photocopied pages of 'Hungry Beat' and a fanzine called ‘Turn!' that came with a Sha-La-La flexidisc. At the time I had not knowingly heard ‘Turn! Turn! Turn!’ or any Byrds apart from ‘Tambourine Man’. At the time I remember travelling to Glasgow in the car with my dad, me on my way to the Art School and he on his way to work. Radio Clyde was playing. I want to say it was Mark Goodier on the breakfast show but regardless, my head was filled with a million and one things, including the thought that I really needed to hear these Byrds records that people were referencing. Of course coincidences are nothing more than mathematical equations of probability, but on that particular morning the stars aligned with the numbers and suddenly the car was filled with the cascading light of McGuinns’ guitar. ‘Turn! Turn! Turn!’ took my breath away, as I knew it surely would.

 

In subsequent years there have been times when I have listened to little except the records of The Byrds. On any particular day I might tell you that The Byrds are my favourite group who were making records in the 1960s or any time. On those days it will be the truth. On some of those days I will tell you that ‘The Notorious Byrd Brothers’ is my favourite Byrds album. Again, on those days that will be the truth, and if you were lucky I might further whisper another truth suggesting ‘Going Back’ as my favourite song. It is, of course, a rare gem even within the heavenly firmament of the Goffin and King songbook and in all honesty Dusty Springfield’s version would run close as a moment to illuminate here. But this is my spotlight and The Byrds are where my light must fall.

 

Finally, my dad did not really know about The Byrds until his last few years, although he very much adored California. In the Autumn of 2013 I bought him an iPod and filled it with a playlist of Californian Pop and folk. The songs of The Byrds were prominent. At his funeral in January 2014 we played ‘Turn! Turn! Turn!’ at the start and ‘Wild Mountain Thyme’ at the end. Joyous in the face of death.

Comments

[Wm]

God I love the Byrds! One of the many things that amazes me about them is how they went from strength to strength despite losing what seemed like irreplaceable members, like Gene Clark. Also their interpretative abilities were so uncanny- Goin Back, Turn Turn Turn, Wild Mountain Thyme, etc. That must have been a moving moment at your Dad's funeral, a lovely tribute to him. Their music has a religious or if one prefers spiritual quality that is unlike any other band I can recall. Part of it I know is harmony, an element that has almost altogether disappeared from pop/rock. I look forward to the next year! What collections would you recommend by Ian Berry?

[Alistair]

Thanks William, knew you would like this one. Your point about the spiritual quality of their work is well made and spot on. Yeah, whatever happened to great harmonies? I loved the post you made recently with those clips of The Byrds on the Playboy TV show. Bizarre, and brilliant. Sadly there seems to be no print collection of Berry's photos from Prague, at least not that I know of. His collection of photographs from South Africa under apartheid is stunning, however, and well worth tracking down. His 'The English' collection is out of print and quite collectable, so if you ever see a copy it might be worth picking up :)