Beryl Cook

Many years ago I went to the National Theatre with a good friend who alas has now passed.

I remember her but not the production. In the interval we wondered around the NT bookshop and were struck by the cover of  a book called ‘THE WORKS” by Beryl Cook. Its cover – of two well-rounded ladies playing bowls – particularly amused us. One was bending over and the other sticking her finger into the thrower’s large behind.  In fact it amused us so much that we could hardly contain our mirth. I bought the book and inscribed it thus: ‘I will remember the evening always’.

Thus began my huge admiration for Beryl Cook.  That she was not rated and did not go to art school did not lessen her popularity. Her humour was that of the seaside postcard: ribald, naughty, playful. Nicolas Serota, as Head Curator of the Tate, observed snootily that he would not have any of her paintings in that museum.  Yet her prices soared – like those of Jack Vettori – and her depiction of round faces and bottoms appealed. my many arty  friends disdained her but still laughed.

Now a gallery in Plymouth the Box is holding an exhibition to celebrate her work as she hails from that city, also famous for Francis Drake finishing his bowls game and still beating the Armada;  Joshua Reynolds, the first President of the Royal Academy; Beryl  Cook; and Plymouth Argyle, whose most famous supporter was Michael Foot.

I shall do my best to visit as the Gallery also showcases Joshua Reynold’s most  famous portrait – that of the Polynesian Mai – as well as no fewer that 30 Beryl Cooks.

It’s good that she is now appropriately esteemed  as well as celebrated in her city.