Triumphantly

William, The Maxwells front man.

William was mid band-practice at the Maxwell-Collins household. He broke the flow to welcome me and announce that in a fortnight he'd be supporting his father at the Shepherds Bush Empire. His band, The Maxwells (named in honour of his mother's side of the family), will be performing their first gig in front of a crowd of over 1000 but he ain't fazed.

Grace

It has been a long while since I've felt the warmth of this fiercely matriarchal household. The volume still reaches fever pitch and there's no room for the sentimental or superficial. Under Grace's stewardship the Maxwell-Collins juggernaut careers ever onward and upward with more laughter and less falling. If ever there was a motivation guru in the making then Grace is it.

Edwyn

Edwyn had been busy producing bands in his studio and working on his upcoming exhibition 'Nature Punk' showing at the Idea Generation Gallery. It's great to see Ed being creative on all fronts, giving as good as he gets and receiving the critical praise deserves.

This intimate image is one of triumph over adversity. Being with Grace and Edwyn puts things into perspective- money isn't the be all.

Extract

In July I was approached by Dundee Health Services Unit. The unit was in the process of compiling the largest survey of the dental health and well-being of Scottish homeless people to date. 853 took part in a questionnaire and dental health checks- Barrie was one of the original interviewees for the project. A picture of the characteristics and needs of this group of people has been built up from the results. The next stage of the project is to; develop an oral health initiative for homeless people, offer assistance with finding a dentist, making and attending appointments and so on.
 The unit requested permission to use one of the 'biopic' images for the cover of the report. The reproduction fee was obvious- teeth for Barrie. Barrie and I had agreed long ago that our last photographic session would be when he could smile without stigma or embarrassment. The unit gladly agreed to this reciprocal arrangement. The end is nigh.

iPhone app

The iPhone app is working and is the model for the Big Issue 'biopic' app. With the support and coverage of the magazine it is hoped that the app will attract sponsorship which will in turn go towards funding a Big Issue Foundation in Scotland.

You can download the app by entering www.m.gavinevans.com into Safari and then adding the app to your 'home screen'.

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Barrie appears better. The swelling from the beating has subsided but the whites of his eyes tell their own story.

Appleby and Pomegranate

Pre Appleby Gypsy gathering, Teesside

I’d planned to celebrate my birthday visiting Appleby Fair with Barrie. For years I’ve had the intention of attending the UK’s biggest gathering of Gypsy travellers. Barrie was glad of the invite and the chance to escape Glesga for a day or two. The night before we were due to leave I called him on the phone to firm arrangements. He was distraught, he couldn’t face living and the thought of the trip was the furthest thing from his mind. A couple of weeks ago he was been beaten within an inch of his life- another case of mistaken identity. Three men muscled their way into his home and taught him a lesson he couldn’t comprehend. None of my cagoling could permeate, let alone lift his depression. Barrie was drowning his sorrows in a sea of discount lager. The phone dropped from his hand and he went silent. All I could hear was the white noise of pedestrians and Tannoys- he was slumped in the entrance of Central Station.  

 I found him the next day roaming aimlessly in the rain. In the car he broke down. If asked him, if he had the choice, where would he want to be right there and then? It was my birthday and we were going to make good. His sister’s home in Hamilton sprang instantly to mind- the sanctity of the family nest. By the warmth of his sister's hearth he regained his strength and complained about his aching shoulder. Barrie had fallen down a flight of stairs the week before while attempting to cold turkey- the shock to this system resulted in a fit. Pulling on a shirt was agony. His injuries spread over his back like the flesh of a peeled pomegranate- back in the car.

After an hour at the local A and E Barrie appeared with his arm in a sling- he had fractured his shoulder.

 

We'll try again next year.

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The day started with an interview - Scotland on Sunday magazine wanted the full SP on Barrie and the biopic Big Issue project.

 The shoot took place in a vault sandwiched between Skyline’s studios 1 and 2. Barrie is no stranger to claustrophobic spaces; for years he was conditioned to sleep in cells, bins, boxes, bridges...

 I took advantage of the setting to review a 4 thirds digital compact for Professional Photographer magazine.

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  The trip to the art fair brought things in to sharp focus. Even among the art-going middle-classes Barrie is not immune to derision and antipathy. There’s no disguising the public's fear or suspicion of his altered state. If his disfigurement had been caused by a genetic disorder or defect at birth, society would be bound by political correctness to accept or at least tolerate him. His is a case of identity theft – disenfranchised and relegated to the criminal status of his perpetrator. Barrie would willingly submit himself to the surgeon’s scalpel to gain acceptance.

Make Poverty History G8 Rally Edinburgh, 2005 (photo © Kamikaze)

 In 2005 I commissioned a knitter to knit me a pair of candy pink SAS balaclavas. The War on Terror was being fought on the home front and paranoia was at a peak - no one was above suspicion. I had the idea to employ them in everyday scenarios – parodying the pervasive hysteria of the time.

We associate hooded masks with violence or intimidation – the same way society views Barrie’s disfigured veneer. Beneath the balaclava could breathe a terrorist or freedom fighter, foe or amigo.

Barrie is a luchador who can’t jump the ring and hide in the audience. Lucha Libre Barrie puts on a brave face - his resilience gives diamonds the rub.

Touch – the Barrier is still up.

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 Barrie wears his heart on his sleeve and conceals a painful secret beneath the cuffs. His arms and wrists bear the scars of a life lived on a knife-edge. Lacerations intersect his skin like wires on a telegraph pole - sending out SOS’s in all directions. The legacy of lesions are testament to his remarkable resolve, but society sees it differently - so he covers up.

 Deliberate self-harm remains one of the most misunderstood and maligned mechanisms for coping. Self-injury, like anorexia and bulimia, is a social taboo; shrouded in secrecy and held in contempt. Issues surrounding alcohol and drug abuse, the acceptable face of self-harm, aren’t accompanied by nefarious overtones. Society cruelly scalds and disenfranchises those who inflict hurt on themselves. Some take the view that the condition is one of selfish or nihilistic attention seeking. Others deride their actions as feeble or pathetic. Cutting and burning gives the self-harmer a momentary sense of self-determination and control of their life. Self-harming is a symptom of a desperately low self-esteem – sufferers seek only our compassion and support. 

 Barrie’s self-harming peaked while serving time for joy-riding - his crime of passion. After ‘lights out’ was when Barrie would release the pressure. His self-esteem was so low, and his rage so great, that he protected the other inmates by turning the blade on himself.

 Barrie has kicked his addiction to crime and heroin - straight for 7 years, clean for three. Now he’s digging deep in his battle against alcoholism. Barrie ended self-harming seven years ago but has never permitted himself to celebrate or take strength from his prodigious achievement- cutting free.

An example of when the virtual world infiltrates the real - the unexpected and unintended consequences of social media;

email 1
  Hi Gavin my name's Gemma, I'm Barrie’s niece. I would really like to meet up with him, I haven't had any contact in about 3-4 years. If I was to go down to Argyle St would I be likely to see him? I'm happy to see someone is doing something to help him,* he’s a good guy. Reading you're blog has really touched me. I would appreciate it if you could find the time to get back to me as to where I could find him.

Thanks Gemma :)

email 2
  Hi Gavin, just to let you know I met up with my uncle Barrie earlier today, he’s looking great, I really enjoyed spending time with him, I’ve realised how much I’ve missed him. I'm meeting him again through the week or weekend, I’m glad to back in touch with him, thank you.

Correspondence reproduced with the express permission of Gemma – (Biopic) Barrie’s niece:
 

* Barrie is helping himself

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Barrie turned up with a new cut, a benign cut - a hair cut. The scars on his head were now sharply revealed. "The two on the top were when I went through a windshield, the other was from a paving slab," the consequences of joyriding and betrayal.

It had been another one of those somber weeks that seem to shadow Barrie: his terminally ill friend passed away sooner than expected and yet another died from gambling - Anthrax Roulette. I'm amazed that his spirit hasn't been ground away by the constant knocks. Barrie assured me that (somehow) he's been attending AA and keeping a grip on the wheel, and reality.

We finished with another touch shot. This time he took my hand and pushed it to his outer limits. There was the merest of contact, but contact nevertheless. The previous touch was just an alcoholic aberration. He couldn't remember me taking the shot and was affronted to learn that he'd shaken my hand. “Oh aye, ah’d had a drink” were his mitigating circumstances.

You can’t kid a kidder, kidda.

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As the Pyramids of the M8 disappear from view I can't help thinking what lies ahead. The last time we met, Barrie had taken the wagon on one of his joy rides. It's cut and dry; he knows he has no option but to jack-in the booze. I don't condemn or judge him for his lapses - they're temporary. I'm not his social, case or care-worker, but naturally I care. Last orders have been rung but he's not ready to throw in the towel, not just yet and not without support. The best I can do is listen.

 Barrie was edgy and frayed - news of a friend diagnosed as terminally ill was compounded by the recent death of another from anthrax. I weighed-up the situation and decided to cut the session short.

  Barrie can't break the cycle alone - although he is giving it his best shot. When the wagon breaks down you need the assistance of an expert recovery service - something I can't provide. In the Saltmarket, only 50 yards from the Big Issue office, stands an Alcoholics Anonymous meeting house. I introduced Barrie to some familiar faces and accompanied him to an open meeting. 30 minutes in and he needed out; the speaker's story resonated too deeply.

You can lead a horse to water...

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 Barrie kept the appointment; determined not to let me or himself down. He entered the studio like a crash survivor stumbling from a wreckage. Barrie thought he could be drunk at the wheel of the wagon. He believed that he could pull the wool over my eyes, but his eyelids gave him away - they weighed down like a Buckie Monk's foot pressing on a grape.

 I've seen him drunk and rattled but never somnambulating shit-faced. It was painful to watch as he performed the hula - without the hoop. Conversation is in Desperanto, the Wegian vernacular slowed to a monotone slur.

 His boozin' buddies are his worst enemies, they'll fight to the bitter end to keep the marriage going. The only way he can move forward is to divorce himself from them and the culture. It is going to be tough; his brides are pernicious bunny boilers fueled by their faith in the spirit. 

 The lens was an empty optic and the only way to fill the stupoured voids was to play music. The soundtrack to Barrie's life is Pink Floyd's 'Dark Side of the Moon.' I didn't have the LP on my iPod but I did have 'Comfortably Numb.' Barrie skipped with anticipation as I scrolled down the playlist. He held himself close and swayed like a father caressing his child. Word perfect he whispered the lyrics as if the song were a lullaby to an orphaned youth.

Once again I asked Barrie to take my hand and put it in the frame. This time, for the first time, he took my hand... he touched. I was under no delusion, we hadn't made a breakthrough. This wasn't the moment when we'd crossed the barrier - the drink had deceived him into dropping his guard.

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Barrie strode into into the studio with unerring accuracy and announced he was feeling "brand new." He hadn't taken anything and he wasn't reborn. Sure, he was reading from the script, but his words weren't slurred. He'd been distributing the Big Issue since 5am and was fired-up, for once he hadn't doused the flame at dawn. Barrie was alight; articulate, focused and funny - Barrie was sober.

"Jus' wan can," he proclaimed, as proud as Punch, "all weekend, jus' wan can!" Barrie had started reducing his alcohol intake a couple of months before the diagnosis. Since our last session he had faced the challenge head-on and squared-up to sobriety.

We made certain of the occasion, only too aware that this could be one of those fleeting moments - a glitch on the timeline.
  On our last encounter Barrie revealed the catalyst that spurred him to try heroin. Inspiration came when watching Trainspotting. The image of Ewan McGregor; enveloped, comforted and protected by the carpet, was so seductive he needed to experience it for himself. The next day he bought the kit, shot-up, OD'd and woke in A&E. Unperturbed, he re-calculated the dose and spent the next ten years between penal and pavement purgatory. He has been clean for two years now - alcohol wont be so easy to kick.

Barrie recalling that moment.

At the end of the session we took another touch. No change - cell mates not soul mates.

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 Barrie was still reeling from the news. Putting the bomb back in it's shell will test his mettle to breaking point. He has formulated a plan, of sorts, beginning with the exorcising of his chemical demons. Reprieve from his sentence would take more than Dutch courage.

 In the sanctity of the studio he could reflect and offload. Barrie's history is scored into his face and scarred into his psyche. He can't disguise or escape from his past. Peeling back the layers was like heaving tarpaulin - beneath each baneful story lay a darker episode.

  It comes as no surprise to discover that Barrie is from a secure and loving home - originally from Hamilton where he can no longer show his face without the authorities being alerted. As a kid with a penchant for Cosworths and XR's, Barrie took great joy in testing cars to their limits; without the owners permission. Now he reminisces at the steering wheel of his XBox whilst coming to terms with his new mode of transport - the wagon.

biopic 02 chapter 2

 We arranged to meet at 1pm; enough time for Barrie to get into town after a routine health check. This was to be our first venture together in the studio and already it seemed like our inaugural session was on the rocks. His call to reassure me he'd "be there" was barely coherent over the panic. 

 I met him on the steps of the studio, twisting in disbelief. A borderline condition had breached the safety barrier and he was awash with fear. Barrie was drowning. He couldn't confide in his pals and the prospect of breaking the news to his partner - his life-line, terrified him. Barrie scrubbed at his face in a desperate search for answers. An innocent man wrongly condemned; he couldn't put the sentence into words. 

 After spinning all the positives out of the air the stranglehold of uncertainty loosened enough for Barrie to breathe. It was getting late, we hadn't started shooting and with an hour left left on the clock I suggested we called it a day. Barrie was devastated by the idea, he needed to take control and refused to be put on hold. He asserted, insisted and before he could plead I plugged in the flash. 

 I couldn't deny him his moment.

Chapter #1 of the new Biopic put to bed - restless nights...

biopic 02 chapter 1

Barrie Greenan- biopic #2

For the past 3 months I've been seeing Barrie around. We met on my first incursion on the world of Glasgow's Big Issue vendors. He instructed me to place my hand at arms length and, like an inmate on lock-down, withdrew to the confines of his comfort zone. 
 Barrie is one of the founding vendors and has been selling the magazine from the outset. His reckless sincerity and infusive resolve inspired the public to nominate him for Vendor of the Year. On the night of the awards I reveled in Barrie's abandoned display of pride and joy. In that instant I knew I was looking at the subject of my next Biopic.

It has been seven years since the publication of Biopic. Iggy Pop set a precedence and established the template for a series of photo essays. Without the support of a publisher my intention to produce a sequel had been put on hold - till now. In a rare moment of clarity it dawned on me that I could circumnavigate this obstacle and publish the series over the internet. More importantly, I'd found someone who had inspired me to restart the process.

With apprehension I handed Barrie a copy of Biopic and asked him to carefully consider my proposition. Was he prepared to submit himself to potentially painful public scrutiny? Why? He needed no time to deliberate; I hadn't accounted for the impact my request would have on his self-esteem. Recognition was reward enough, he wasn't just being photographed - he was being acknowledged.

I told him to sleep on it.