A Rock and Roll Girl’s Valentine to Pattie Boyd

Rock and roll musedom, for me, deserves a category of its own. If you grew up a true-blue bad girl of rock and roll, your passion spilled over into the stacks of vinyl and CD’s everywhere, articles clipped from Creem and Circus, and colorful buttons declaring your loyalty to the certain funny-named bands. And if you were truly deep, there were the authorized and not-so-authorized musical biographies that kept you enraptured with their descriptions of the bohemian, fabulously debauched, but never boring lives of your favorite rock and roll troubadours.

But for some of us, listening closely to certain snatches of the words, music, and books from time to time only left wanting to know more about the kittenish vixens torturing our songster heroes, doing such numbers on them and inspiring tunes so raw, so heartfelt, that you wanted to rip your own heart out? Who were these women and what were their stories? And why should we care?

I’ll tell you why. Just pretend there’s a big Valentine’s Day Whitman sampler sitting in front of you, and hear me out on this.

They're a universal theme running rampant throughout history, art and literature, and our twentieth century musical heritage is full of them, too – perfumed pretties and sultry sweeties who’d be heart-stoppingly hot one minute, then as distant and frozen as an ice chip the next.

The Delta Bluesmen tapped into this vein rather nicely, with tales of heartless, wicked women driving their helpless menfolk to the brink of insanity, murder or suicide, or all of the above. Hank Williams Senior may have been the king of Nashville but it was the fiery Audrey who helped bring on his cry-in-your-beer, slit-your-wrists ballads like “I’m So Lonesome I Could Cry.” Then came the harmonic convergence in Swinging 60’s London, with Anita Pallenberg introducing Brian Jones to the art and fashion world, and Chrissie Shrimpton inspiring Mick Jagger to write all those bitchy-tongued, early Stones anthems like “19th Nervous Breakdown,” and later Marianne Faithfull – an artist in her own right – giving him the novel “The Master and the Margarita,” thus inspiring the theme and flavor for the samba-laced “Sympathy For The Devil.”

So with that in mind, I bring you my valentine to my personal favorite rock and roll muse, someone familiar with the scene I’ve just described. You’ve heard the songs about her, countless times. I’ll give you a few hints: there was something in the way she moved. She had him on his knees, begging, “Darling, please.” And she looked wonderful tonight.

Her name is Pattie Boyd, and chances are, you might not have heard of her. But if you’re a Beatles or Eric Clapton fan, then, yeah, you know all about her. She’s the blonde, blue-eyed, gap-toothed dolly bird who drove rock and roll royalty to distraction and inspired a multitude of songs.

Ah, Pattie Boyd. It was 1964 when George Harrison first spotted her on the set of “A Hard Day’s Night.” According to rock and roll folklore, he asked her out and she turned him down. She ended up marrying him two years later, giving up a successful modeling career, inspiring songs, and hiding out from the scores of angry, young female Beatles fans who couldn’t forgive her for taking their George away from them. But she was also responsible for turning George and the other Beatles onto Eastern mysticism, when she set out on her own quest for enlightenment.

Later, she’d be the object of public interest again when George’s best friend and fellow guitarist Eric Clapton’s pain over his unrequited love for her pushed him even further into a cocoon of heroin addiction. It was also during this time that he took Nizami’s 12th century Persian poem of obsessive, unattainable love – “Layla and Majnun” – and turned it into one of the most enduring, hauntingly beautiful rock and roll classics of the twentieth century.

And while Pattie did go on to become Pattie Boyd Harrison Clapton, sadly to divorce him later, believe me - I’ll take all this over Brad and Jen any day of the fucking week.

In today’s vapid pop cultural landscape – full of tell-alls and exposes you never wanted to read – Pattie’s the one you wish would write her memoirs, but she’s always been known for being extremely private, never one to kiss and tell. But just as she did in her Swinging London days – Pattie Boyd is proving to be ahead of her time once again. You see, all this time, Pattie was capturing it all – on film. And just like her two ex husbands, Pattie never missed a beat, either – but it was with her camera, not a guitar.

The San Francisco Art Exchange – in association with Raj Prem Fine Art Photography – is hosting Pattie’s first-ever exhibition of photography, “My Life in Pictures: Photographs by Pattie Boyd.” It’s no great hardship for those of us who wish she’d give in to her baser urges and write a dishy tell-all – I suppose we’ll just have to be content with the Pattie’s candid and formal shots of her legendary life, loves, and friends over the years: George Harrison enjoying contemplation on the Isle of Skye, Eric Clapton drinking champagne with B.B. King, and my personal bad girl of rock and roll favorite, the “Girl’s Night Out” portrait with Marianne Faithfull and Anita Pallenberg.

The exhibit features over 60 photographs, and is set to open at the San Francisco Art Exchange on Valentine’s Day, February 14th. And this bad girl of rock and roll can’t think of a more appropriate or better reason to compose a valentine to the woman who inspired so many of my favorite musical moments.


For more information on “My Life in Pictures: Photographs by Pattie Boyd,” be sure to visit: http://www.sfae.com/