Meeting Your Favorite Artist who Turns Out to be a Mensch
PART 1 (it’s a long story, folks)
Have you ever met any of your heroes?
What would you do if you did? What would you say to this person who you worshipped from afar? Would they meet your expectations of the Adonis or Aphrodite you believed them to be?
Well, I have met my hero. Two times.
Seriously, because we say seriously when we really mean it. The first time was in Seattle and the second time was quite recently in Denver.
Wanna know the truth? Both times were better than eating twenty boxes of your favorite pasta from your Grandma’s favorite pasta bowl then passing out from carb overload only to wake up and think about finding the nearest Pasta Anonymous meeting. “Hi. I’m Frank and I ate twenty boxes of pasta, passed out, and now wanting more pasta with pesto and those giant prawns still in their shells.” [HI, FRANK!]
Let’s go back to 2004 when my wife and our family of cats, dogs and horses (always in that order) lived in the very wet and very green Pacific Northwest.
It’s a great place (although give yourself at least two hours to get anywhere, even if it’s to the corner grocery), and the birthplace of the Grunge music scene.
Some context while you learn that one of my passions is music: Grunge emerged in Seattle in the late 1980s and early 1990s and was a reaction against the polished sound of mainstream pop music. Seattle’s Grunge bands were influenced by punk rock and and heavy metal, and they created a raw, sludgy sound. Kinda like Frank felt after eating twenty boxes of pasta.
This isn’t about bands like Nirvana, Alice in Chains, Soundgarden or Pearl Jam, who were at the top of the Grunge scene where ripped jeans and plaid flannel were THE THINGS TO WEAR.
Nope. This is about a band from the UK who defined the Prog Rock scene waaaay back in the 1970’s, you know, before Punk and Grunge music threatened to take over the world.
The band that defined Progressive Rock and my absolute favorite band is Yes. Well, truth be told, The Beatles are still #1 in my book. (John, Paul, George, and Ringo - always in that order, it seems.)
As an impressionable 15-year young teenager I first heard Yes’ Roundabout on my 9-volt battery operated transistor radio, set to local Long Island radio station WABC 770 on the AM (whaaa?) dial. This was in the winter of 1972. I literally stopped what I was doing and listened to the sound that broke the mold of pop radio. What the actual ear worm?
It was very clever of the Atlantic Records execs to release an edited version of Roundabout as a single from the Fragile vinyl album to the airwaves. It helped people understand something other than pop, and it caught a lot of attention. The album was certified Platinum in the UK and double Platinum in the US, where it sold over two million copies. Presentation, in music as in food, is everything.
You’re wondering why you’re still reading this.
The point is, Roger Dean was, and still to this day is associated with the band Yes. This is who I’m writing about today.
Roger Dean is an English artist, designer, and publisher. He began painting posters and album covers for musicians in the late 1960s. The groups for whom he did the most art are the English rock bands Yes and Asia.
The covers often feature exotic fantasy landscapes. His work has sold more than 150 million copies worldwide.
His art continues to influence and inform my art through photography and acrylic paint. He is my favorite artist bar none.
Back to Seattle.
Grunge. Flannel. And a strange little family with cats, dog and horses (always in that order).
Dateline: April 15, 2004 “An Evening with Yes” at Key Arena, Seattle, WA.
I bought two tickets and dragged my beloved, Ashara, with me to the show. For years I raved about Yes. She, who loves Manhattan Transfer, Barry Manilow and Neil Diamond (let’s not forget Billy Joel) was clueless.
My mission: ASHARA SHALL EXPERIENCE YES!
Roger Dean also designed stage sets for Yes over many years. Unbeknownst to me he was at the show and sat quietly overseeing the lighting on stage. I saw him before the first set and my heart started the jitter bug in my chest. I leaned over to Ashara and mentioned who was in the arena and she gave me a polite smile in a “that’s nice, honey” kind of way.
Lights in the arena lowered and Firebird Suite, Yes’ stage intro music, started playing. The thunder of applause and cheers was vibrating the arena. The stage lit up with inflatables that looked like an underwater seascape. Very cool! Yes played a solid first set that warmed me like hot chocolate with 2,537 marshmallows.
The actual stage with the actual Yes playing in actual 2004
During the intermission I told Ashara that I was going to meet Roger Dean. “OK, honey, have fun” was her reply.
I made my way over to where he was sitting, motioned with my hands to join him, and he nodded affirmative. Introductions were made, a conversation ensued about me being a fan of his art since I first heard Yes. The conversation took a more personal turn when Roger asked me about the inflatable set he created and of course I gushed my appreciation about that. Before long the second set was about to begin. Handshakes and my deep gratitude were offered.
I never knew Roger Dean was so open to meeting his fans.
My eyes leaked all the way back to my seat.
By the end of the show Ashara finally understood what stirs my soul about Yes music. (She still will pick Billy Joel over Yes on our cross-country driving playlist, though - nobody’s perfect.)
Meeting Roger Dean was a defining moment for me. I felt heard, seen and acknowledged by someone I admired. He became my hero! Has that ever happened to you? Could it?
Stay tuned for the second half of this story.
