The Power of Friendship

A tribute to Colin Moore

Colin on the Jurassic Coast Path

One of the most rewarding experiences that life has in store for us is when we meet someone with whom we feel an instant connection, then get to know each other better and develop a relationship that enriches our time on this planet. The flipside occurs when that person is gone, leaving a big hole in your life.

So it was for me with Colin Moore. I met Colin in Caracas, Venezuela, in 1978 when I arrived to work as an English teacher at the British Institute. Colin worked there in an administrative position, and I was instantly impressed by this affable Scotsman who spoke fluent Spanish (or should I say Venezuelan, which is a bit different) without a trace of a Scottish accent.

A classic Colin Moore creation

​I soon found out that he was also a very accomplished guitarist, innovative artist and gifted photographer. I still remember a set of black-and-white portraits he took (and developed himself) of the weather-beaten faces of people in an Andean village where he went to live for a while. Colin was one of those rare people – a polymath.

Venezuela was a very different place in those days compared to the sorry state it is in today, and although life in Caracas was speedy and sometimes stressful, the city had an ace up its sleeve in its proximity to some fabulous Caribbean beaches.
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Colin and I and other friends would spend each week deciding which beach to go to at the weekend, then as early as possible on Friday afternoon we would pack our cars (or jeep in Colin’s case) with ice boxes, tents, hammocks, beach games and samples of substances from neighbouring Colombia, then head out for destinations like Choroni, Morrocoy, or La Sabana for a weekend of pure fun, finally heading back to the city on Sunday evening, pouting all the way, usually in a traffic jam.

Colin's studio in Highgate

Eventually we both moved on but met up again in London in the mid-1980s when I lived in Kentish Town and Colin bought an artist’s studio in nearby Highgate. He was earning pots of money as a “rebrander” with a top design company, flitting off to God-knows-where to convince the locals that his sketch for their new logo was the way to go.

I taught English in a school near Piccadilly Circus, but as with many English teachers, the travel bug was too strong for me to resist so I got a teaching job in Thailand, where I’ve been ever since. Colin came to visit once when his company was vying for a design contract for the new Skytrain in Bangkok, and I crashed out on his sofabed in Highgate several times while teaching summer school at University College London.

Besides being an all-round great guy, Colin produced a memorable book, Propaganda Prints – the History of Art in the Service of Social and Political Change. He also provided mural artwork for Guys Hospital in London and for the Hilton Hotel in Bournemouth, as well as paintings and prints for cabins and public spaces on the SAGA cruise ship Spirit of Adventure. His website, colinmoore.uk.com, stands as testimony to his prodigious talent.

Col's colours

​The last few times I saw Col was at his cosy hideaway in Chaldon Herring, a picture-postcard village in Dorset just a stone’s throw from the Jurassic Coast Path, a World Heritage Site. We would go for bracing walks along the windy clifftops, then return to his snug abode for scrumptious meals and scintillating conversation. I will go there once more next week, along with a small army of others who came under Colin’s spell, to pay my respects and give thanks to whoever runs this show for allowing our paths to cross.

Jurassic Coast abstract