A Homage to Dorothy Bird
A selection of works on paper
Illustrated catalogue with poetry by Paco Verdu is available on request. Profits from the sale of works will go to the Dorothy and Jim Bird Foundation to help Leukaemia research
Jim Bird and Dorothy Carter were married in 1961, ten years later leaving Britian to live in Majorca. As a teacher she became director of the Belver International School before moving to New York in 1981 to run the Galeria Joan Prats. In July 2002 she lost her valiant and long running battle against leukaemia. This exhibition has been planned as a celebration of her life and a tribute to her remarkable courage and strength.
There is little I can add to many kind words that have been said and written for Dorothy elsewhere save for my own personal expressions of grief and shock; the unavoidable grief one feels at the death of a special friend and the shock of her passing.
Bidding a final farewell to anyone is always very difficult. Death itself is final, of course, but, even when more than half expected, that thief still catches us unawares, and, like all thieves, always frightens because one can never be fully prepared. One immediately chokes a sigh and thinks of the deeds left undone, the words one had planned are now left unsaid. Dorothy, however, has now slipped away, leaving Jim like some injured colossus whose wounds, one hopes, can be partly healed in the fullness of time by the only therapy he knows - painting.
In 1937, a friend of George Gershwin, when he was informed of the composer's death, said that he didn't have to believe it if he didn't want to. Shortly after Jim told me of Dorothy's death, I poured myself a stiff drink to commemorate in my own way the passing of a lovely and of much loved-friend who had fought valiantly the last battle. I wanted to make of her departure a triumph, not a calamity.
Sharing one's life with an artist is rarely an easy task. Creative folk are often more complex, insecure and downright difficult than other mortals. Dorothy however, quickly those special skills needed to navigate her way through life with her chosen partner. Though she gave loyal and loving support to Jim in every aspect of his career, she never looked upon herself or her own life as mere footnoted to the map Jim was to follow. She was a qualified teacher and many parents and former pupils in Britain and Majorca still remember her with deep affection and admiration. She had great strength of character, a genuine humility and geniality, impeccable manners, that keen perceptiveness that only a woman can have, and was possessed of a winning but self-effacing charm withal. These were amongst her many qualities which later she used to the full when, having abandoned her teaching career, she turned to the creation and management of what was to become a small but prestigious art gallery in New York. Dorothy undertook every project with an understanding single mindedness and a quiet passion which was remarkable to behold. She was uncompromising and gloriously stubborn when she applied her mid to any cause or task she had determined to embrace.
We must all find ways of coming to terms with bereavement after our own fashion but, painful though the loss of Dorothy now appears, I believe that betimes it need not be looked upon as quite so calamitous. For example, I can celebrate my great good fortune that in her I had a true and kind friend and my knowledge that her love for her friends was always underlined by a fierce yet uncomplicated loyalty. And, as I see it, it would be ill-reward to Dorothy to bid farewell in a wholly sorrowful mood. The most precious part of her is that part which will never die, her spirit perhaps, as revealed in the kind of company and friendship she gave me. I am not a religious person myself nor do I recall Dorothy herself having been particularly so, but I should like to end saying that wherever her spirit now resides, I should like my loving thought to pass beyond the confines of this earthly existence, to let her know that I remember her not with feelings of wain regret, but rather with those of immeasurable gratitude and rejoicing that I was lucky indeed to have known her. This way, I believe, she can live forever in the hearts of her many friends who valued her vibrant and warm humanity whilst she lived and who so miss her twinkling and knowing smile now that she has gone.
John Bird
London. 1 November 2002 |
