S Poddar
A clever artist, George Underwood, is producing a charity exhibition-a project that has been inspired by one of the lyrics of his school friend and creative collaborator, David Bowie. Underwood has made quite a name for himself in the art world, but he is perhaps most remembered for a notorious incident in Bowie’s life that changed the face of the late music legend forever.
“I know what you’re going to say. I know exactly what you’re going to say,” Underwood chuckles over the phone, knowing the story that is bound to come up.
Now 77, Underwood has had an incredibly prolific career and his work is enjoyed around the world. He and Bowie’s most iconic association, however, is with the man’s mismatched eyes-another strange feature that finished off the musical actor’s otherworldly appearance. Underwood first came across Bowie as a young man when David Robert Jones (later to become famous under the alias David Bowie) relocated from Brixton to the slightly more sedate suburb of Bromley.
“We met when we were signing up for the Cubs. We were nine years old, talking about music, television, and all the fashionable things of that time,” Underwood recalls. Their shared interests quickly turned them into inseparable friends.
“We were always together, always laughing,” Underwood recalls. The duo would often patrol up and down Bromley High Street, sometimes stepping out of the picture for dramatic effect to catch the ladies’ eye. Bowie and Underwood later studied at Bromley Technical College, where they both received an art education from Owen Frampton, whose son Peter Frampton would one day himself become a rock icon.
However, during these school years, something strange happened that would change the life of Bowie from then onward. The two boys have fallen for the same girl, Carol, and things reached a boiling point when they tried to win Carol’s favor in a wild party. The following day, Underwood recalls that he had been told by Bowie that Carol had settled for him, and Underwood, anticipating this, did not turn up at the local youth club he had planned to go, hoping to meet Carol.
When he came to the club late, a buddy of his informed him that Carol had been waiting for him there all night, and Underwood realized that Bowie was not telling the truth. Coaxed by yet another buddy and provoked by Bowie’s mendacious boast, Underwood met Bowie on school break and punched him in the eye. The blow permanently damaged the muscles in Bowie’s left eye, causing his pupil to remain permanently dilated. This created an appearance of mismatched eyes, one of Bowie’s most distinctive facial features.
Reflecting on the incident, Underwood mused: “It was just awful. I didn’t like it back then at all. But much later, Bowie told me that I did him a favour because it gave him that mystical look.”
Well, thanks for that, though, the two soon patched things up and remained the best of mates. In fact, Bowie even came to Underwood’s wedding in 1971 with his then-wife, Angie. At this point, music was central to both their lives. Bowie played saxophone with Underwood’s band, The Konrads. Although they eventually split up, Bowie’s desire for fame was already apparent. Underwood remembers being pleased that Bowie wrote a confident letter to John Bloom, someone big in the music business, stating that he needed a band like theirs at the same time that Brian Epstein needed The Beatles.
Underwood’s own music career was short-lived. He released one solo record and immediately realized it wasn’t his thing, returned to painting, and because of Bowie, remained entwined in the music world. On a phone call from Underwood, Bowie requested that he do an album cover for a friend, the fabulous Marc Bolan of T-Rex. Underwood undertook this project which later became the cover for My People Were Fair and Had Sky in Their Hair. But Now They’re Content to Wear Stars on Their Brows.
Bowie also commissioned Underwood to create sleeve designs for his albums, starting with the inside cover of his self-titled album. Underwood went on to create the iconic sleeves for Hunky Dory and The Rise and Fall of Ziggy Stardust and the Spiders from Mars. The Ziggy Stardust sleeve, featuring Bowie’s alien alter ego sitting, drenched in a London street, is one of the most iconic album covers ever created.
“He was just beginning, and it was amazing to see how his career took off,” says Underwood. “He wasn’t that well-known when I did those covers.”
Underwood remains very engaged with the art world. His latest work is part of an exhibition called Sound & Vision curated by War Child to commemorate the 50th anniversary of Bowie’s Diamond Dogs album. For Sound & Vision, Underwood has done a piece called Dancing with Giants, in which the dancers are wearing exactly the same costumes that the Bowie dancers wore while performing during the 1972 Ziggy Stardust performance.
Even in death, three decades of friendship undergird Underwood’s sadness after Bowie’s passing in 2016. “We would trade silly emails,” he says with a smile. “I miss him so much. He left too soon, but we had so many great times together, always laughing.”
In terms of the construction of Bowie’s iconic look, Underwood must wonder if he treasures his role in helping to create the legend: “I often wondered whether every time he looked in the mirror, he thought of me. I’m just worried I might have it carved on my tombstone.”
