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Tuesday 31 December 2019

Alasdair Gray RIP


It was sad to hear about the death of artist and suthor Alisdair Gray at the age of 85.
Mrs CC and I were in the Ubiquitous Chip in Glasgow's Ashton Lane on Sunday for  lunch. We then went to the bar for a drink. I popped to the loo and when I returned I commented that it was good to see his mural.When we got home I switched on the computer to find that he had passed away.
He also has murals on display in Oran Mor and Hillhead Subway station

We attended the retrospective of his work a few years ago at Kelvingrove Art GalleryDirk that is the building you walked through to tick the culture box on your trip to Glasgow.
I also saw him one time in the Scotia Bar where is wife was trying, unsucessfully, to move him on.

He is of course best remembered for his critically acclaimed  novel Lanark
I liked the Glasgow of Duncan Thaw but struggled with the dystopian Unthank.
My personal favourite of his books was Old Men in Love.

A total one off eccentric and a gifted genius. Rest easy sir.


He appeared on the Ballads of the Book project and also provided the cover



Lord Cut-Glass & Alasdair Gray - A Sentimental Song

2 comments:

  1. Very sorry to hear the news, he was a top man. Lanark is still one of my favourite books.

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  2. He once planked himself down at the very next table to me and a former gf in the Thornwood Bar at far end of Partick (1990/91 I think just before they stripped all the wooden cladding off it). He was drinking a pint in a manner I could only describe as "viciously". He was also furiously scribbling notes on a pile of lined paper. I lifted my rucksack from the floor and extracted my recently purchased (2nd hand) 1st edition of Lanark which I was reading and asked him to sign it for me.
    He did so with a a running commentary in his squeaky, high-pitched cartoon-character kinda voice. He also drew a funny picture of himself wearing his thick specs grinning and holding a pen. He let me buy him a pint.

    Six months later the gf became an ex-gf. She stole the book and took it South to Stoney Stratford. THAT still hurts. B*tch.

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