I was intrigued enough to go along to see an exhibition of artworks by the notorious criminal that some newspapers say is the ‘Most Violent Prisoner’ in our penal system and who has been locked up – most of the time segregated from other inmates – for over 50 years! That’s two of my lifetimes, writes Elizabeth Paul.
I was warmly welcomed by Nik Cornwell, the curator of Life as a Lifer; a huge, smiling man who offered wine and canapés (‘Made by Peckham’s best chef,’ he informed me) and gave me some information about the show.
I don’t know what I was expecting but it wasn’t this. Everyone there was just like the art gallery people who I regularly see at art exhibitions. Perhaps I thought I was going to enter a rogue’s gallery of old jailbirds, talking in slang out of the side of their mouths! How wrong was I? I heard one woman tell another that she already had ‘two Bronsons in my lounge, and now I need one for my holiday cottage’, while also praising the amuse bouche. It was obvious the collectors were in.
Charlie Bronson first started his sentence in the 70s as Micky Peterson; a sentence that was initially just 7 years long but has been extended over the years to ensure this prisoner never gets released, it seems, going by the present consensus around me.
Richard Booth came over and introduced himself as the artist’s Power of Attorney, which gives him the power to speak for Charlie, whose own voice has been silenced. He spoke about the art and how Charlie is spending his time in prison (painting, writing poetry, raising money for charity, exercising…) and explained that Charles Bronson, as he was known for years, after the hard man actor, is now Charlie Salvador, after the artist that has most influenced his work. And that was something I could very much relate to because the art does have that feel to it.
I could see the progression from the early works to the most current. Those from before were focussed on his own predicament of solitary confinement, similar to a simple cartoon with a few lines and little colour, but lots of white space. Nowadays, Mr Salvador is filling the whole sheet with multiple images, more colour, more text and he has opened the art out to more people depicted within. Granted, the other people are prison warders and criminals who have been in cells just along the landing to Charlie, showing that, even though he is kept segregated for much of the time, he has spent some years with the general prison population, and he has included some of them in his art.
But, the work is much more complex now. Each painting tells more than one story, and many are multi-media, invariably against a backdrop of brick walls, barred windows and security cameras. From a distance you could quite easily confuse them with a page from The Beano, but close up there is no room for Dennis the Menace or Roger the Dodger here; these picture, according to the catalogue, are populated by The Krays, Great Train Robbers and several SE London villains.
As I studied one such painting a voice close to me asked, ‘Do you have a favourite?’ I turned to see a man who I had earlier overheard saying he could see snatches of Juan Miro in the art. I replied that I find them intriguing but did not like one more than the others.
‘Don’t believe what you read in the papers,’ he said, going off-piste. ‘He’s one of the nicest, politest and most generous people I’ve ever done jail time with.’
Swallowing hard and finding myself speechless at the same time must have made me look quite awkward. ‘He’s served about five life sentences now and he’s never killed anyone, never raped anyone, never nonced children.’
When my power of speech returned I managed a querying ‘Oh, how so?’ Then I learnt more about the person others only form an opinion of through outrageous headlines that spread terror and fear. I heard another side to that image. ‘Micky’ – no surname, and I dont think that’s his real name – let on that he had two originals from when they were together on D Wing in Long Lartin. ‘He was always giving his art away. That’s the kind of geezer he is.’
Richard Booth returned with canapés and explained that if his friend was released on parole he would have his art and writing to earn a living (His paintings have garnered over £100,000 for charitable causes).
I checked the catalogue of the man whose art had gathered us all here and saw that the prices range from about £1750 – £3950. For a split second I wished I’d been banged up with Charlie Salvador and been given a painting…
Lily Selavie Gallery, 1st Floor Unit 10, Aylesham Centre, Rye Lane, Peckham, SE15 5EW(Entrance through the Market Place Food Hall). Until 12th March. 12.30pm – 6pm.
Book tickets here: https://lilyselaviegallery.com/
