Five decades after Philadelphia Freedom, legendary lyricist Bernie Taupin waves the American flag with his art | Canada Voices

If he were a sculptor, but then again, no.

Bernie Taupin, who wrote the lyrics to Your Song and so many more Elton John hits, drops by Toronto’s Liss Gallery this weekend for the opening of an exhibition of his mixed-media collaborations with the late British photographer Terry O’Neill, titled Two Sides of the 60s. Prints from Taupin’s Reflections series, inspired by his musical partnership with John, will also be displayed.

The artist/lyricist spoke with The Globe and Mail from Los Angeles.

You used celebrity photographs by Terry O’Neill for these works. Did you know him?

He was a great friend. I’m glad I got to collaborate with Terry before he passed away. I took 15 of his most iconic photographs from the 1960s, including Paul Newman, the Queen, Muhammad Ali and Brigitte Bardot, and embellished them in my own way.

Another series of yours, Reflections, was inspired by your lyrics to Elton John’s music. How did that art come about?

Part of me felt I needed to give back to our fan base. So, Reflections is a simpler, affordable way for people who are appreciative of what I do. It was basically a thank you, but it’s sort of blown up and become very popular.

Your work often incorporates the U.S. flag. Should we call this your red, white and blue period?

The American flag is so iconic, with all due respect to other countries around the world. It’s become emblematic in my work. It’s sort of a stamp to my brand, if you will.

Since you wrote the Philadelphia Freedom line, “From the day that I was born, I’ve waved the flag,” the stars-and-stripes brand has taken a hit. Do you think the Trump presidencies have irrevocably damaged it?

It’s a matter of opinion. Because no matter where your political agenda lives, to my mind it doesn’t affect what the flag represents.

To your mind, then, what does it represent?

History. The flag is not owned by any political party. It belongs to the people. The American flag has been torn down, burnt, buried under rubble and fallen in battlefields. The great thing about it is that it has tremendous resilience.

Were you inspired by London’s pop art movement in the 1960s?

I didn’t really get exposed to abstract art, or what you’re calling pop art, until I came to the United States in 1970. You’re correct, though, there was a colourful, pop-arty feel to society in the U.K. in the late sixties, especially the youth movement.

Bands such as the Who embraced it, with symbols and flags.

Yes, but to be honest, it wasn’t really prevalent in the galleries or art museums in London. It wasn’t until I went to New York in 1970 that I got exposed to it. We didn’t have a lot of money. The cheapest places to go and take shelter from the weather in New York would be at the galleries. That’s when I was first exposed to the Museum of Modern Art.

And Andy Warhol?

I’ve always loved Warhol. But I’m talking about Robert Rauschenberg, Franz Kline, Anselm Kiefer and people like that. Those people took my breath away. As much as I was driven by music, art become a drug of mine.

In the 1970s, most people’s drugs were drugs.

Well, we all go through that. But it’s boring. It’s coal to Newcastle. Just an obnoxious rite of passage, really.

Speaking of drugs and the 1970s, one of your pieces references the song Bennie and the Jets, bennies being amphetamines. You’ve said you imagined a sci-fi female rock ’n’ roll band with that song. Seems like that future is now.

I’m a big jazz fan. It’s what I listen to. But as far as modern pop and rock music is concerned, yes, the people who are making the most interesting music, certainly in Americana and country, are women.

Your Elvis Presley piece has bricks. Can you explain the metaphor?

I always felt Elvis’s talent was suppressed, certainly by his manager, Colonel Tom Parker. Elvis was not allowed to make the films he wanted to make. And I think his choices in the songs he recorded after he signed with RCA went down the tubes.

Ultimately the choices were his though, weren’t they?

Yes. I’m not saying he was a coward, but I think he should have taken his career into his hand. The juxtaposition is Elvis as the king in his own court, but out in the great big world he was not making the right decisions. That’s the metaphor.

Bernie Taupin’s Two Sides of the 60s opens Saturday at Toronto’s Liss Gallery, 112 Cumberland St.

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