Watching footage of Freddie Mercury’s live performances, it may be hard to believe that such a force of nature could have ever walked with the steps of man. However, as the recent Sotheby’s exhibition showed, he was very much human— and it may have been precisely his enthusiasm for the human that allowed him to reach such astronomical heights.
Hello readers,
I recently had the pleasure and privilege to visit the Freddie Mercury exhibition, and spend some time marvelling at the various items and oddities taken from the peerless frontman’s colourful life. Putting the moral qualms about showcasing the personal effects and possessions of such a publicly private person aside, the exhibition was very tastefully and very artfully done, and I believe honoured well both Mercury’s sparkling legacy, and his complex character.
What was most apparent in the beginning of the exhibition, focused around items removed from his Kensington residency Garden Lodge, was how eclectic his taste in décor really was. This should come as no surprise to anyone who knows even a little about the frontman’s interest in the arts, or has taken time to listen to the musical diversity of Queen’s back catalogue, but it was still enthralling to witness just how enthusiastic about the different shades of human culture Mercury had been. Garden Lodge was adorned in all manner of masterpiece, from Baroque to Surrealist, and on display were the works of Dali and Goya alongside furniture that wouldn’t have looked out of place in the court of Louis XV.
In what was one of the most personal moments of the exhibit, the various works of art from the frontman’s treasure Japanese room were put on display, which Mercury would in his life have only allowed to be seen by his closest friends. He had a great love of Japan, and devoted much of his life to collecting various works of art from there. The opportunity to wander around such treasured displays was particularly poignant.
Moving upstairs to the second half of the exhibit, dedicated to Mercury’s music career, it is obvious that it was this zest for the variety of artistic expression that made him so enrapturing and engaging a musician. One glance into his wardrobe is enough of an example; the wealth of costumes and accessories would’ve been enough to believe it belonged to an entire musical theatre troupe, not just one man. And a perusal of the various lyric sheets filling the glass cabinets is a reminder of how diverse the range of musical genres Mercury was able to tap into, with words often scribbled down in outpourings of artistic revelry.
As much as I’d like to ramble on about Freddie Mercury’s career until my laptop battery dies (a small mercy to my readers, I’m sure) I would like to draw this train of thought towards artistry as a whole. I believe that it was the frontman’s enthusiasm for seeking out and engaging with as many varieties of human expression and communication as he could, that then allowed him to connect with so many audiences during his performances. On stage, it was often as if he were conducting the very hearts of those watching— their rapt enthusiasm rose and fell in accordance to the energy and tone of Mercury’s actions on stage, and he could make them sing, holler and cheer with the simplest of call-and-response phrasings. If he gestured, they would gesture with him; if he glanced towards even the furthermost of arena seats, the audience member would feel as if he was looking directly at them.
That is an awful lot of power for one man to hold, if even for a few moments. Yet Mercury never appeared fazed by this— if anything, it seemed to spur him on.
This was not because he was an uncommonly outgoing, or extroverted, or even confident man in general life, for offstage he was (more often than not) private and preferring the company of close friends. Instead, perhaps it was Mercury’s enthusiasm for exploring artistic expression that allowed him to overcome his inherent mild-manners.
This is why I believe that it is extremely important for artists, from whatever discipline, to seek out as many avenues of expression as possible. For writers, that means reading widely, from all eras and corners of the globe, in order to expose oneself to all variations of written work. Some will be better than others, and some will be more palatable to one’s own taste than others as well— but all are useful, for they will hone both your understanding of your own opinions and preferences (which will prove very useful when you inevitably must defend them from those vocal few who disagree) and also an appreciation for what exactly separates great literature from the amateurish. After all, there is never an inherently bad idea, just poor execution; and even if you discover a muse that has been grossly wasted, you may be able to use it to influence your own work later on.
Had Mercury not invested himself in all manners and genres of artistic output, he would never have been able to produce such a varied oeuvre himself, much less manage to confidently communicate such masterpieces to as large an adoring audience as he had. Likewise, anyone who intends to create something truly ground-breaking must first gain an understanding of the very vastness of human artistic potential. That, in turn, requires a great humility, to put aside one’s own perceived preferences in the name of true discovery; paradoxically, then, it may have been Farrukh Bulsara’s meek modesty that lay at the heart of Freddie Mercury’s cosmic success.
Thank you for reading,
The Watchful Scribe