It is therefore the photographer O’Neill, jazz drummer, in love with music, who came to photography a little by chance and necessity, first in British Airways and later as a photojournalist, to give us the image almost naive, intimate, of what we could define the “artistic adolescence” of the Rolling Stones, the myth before the myth, the Rolling Stones before the Rolling Stones. An implacable but terribly sincere libido, the healthy bearer of an eager and bubbly generation. Their records, one after the other, were a means of authentic and original conversion to wild and unbridled pleasure. The Rolling Stones between demonic desires and an expanded, outrageous, courageous sexuality, we have chosen (or have been chosen) a seismic, telluric art, capable of shaking even the most difficult and static skeptic.
Thus O’Neill himself defined that hot, magmatic, dense, and feverish period that has been and is seen as one of the most prolific artistic periods in history for generations to come.Ī group, the one matched by the fleshy and androgynous lips of Mick Jagger, who in the 60s still wandered the streets of the British capital in search of its own specific aesthetic identity, and certainly not second-rate element, which was “rivaling” “with the reassuring and peaceful Beatles. “Everywhere you looked in London, something was happening”. Terry O’Neill has immortalized them on the streets of London, the “Swinging London” giving us some of the most famous images of the group in what we can define as the original and most beloved lineup, with Mick Jagger, Keith Richards, Charlie Watts, Bill Wyman and now legendary Brian Jones. The Rolling Stones shoes are shoes that have left indelible steps in the hearts and ears of millions of fans, shoes that have jumped to the rhythm of a bass ride on the most legendary stages. A rock that has shaken hormones and consciences, a rock that has given its soul to the devil because with the respectables we have cleaned the worn sole of shoes. A group so mythical that it is difficult to express in words the greatness of an artistic work so viral and capable of overwhelming and sowing proselytes decades later, almost one feels obliged to bow to such a precious and global history. It is between erotic disorder, intimacy and transspiring aggressiveness that the fusion between the fifties rock heritage and the blues have met in the art of the Rolling Stones.
It is on a hot summer day that struggling to go out, as the most famous rock band on the planet, is with that rhythm and intensity that the Bologna gallery Ono Arte Contemporanea decides to pay homage to the Rolling Stones through the fifty shots of two British pillars of photography, Michael Putland and Terry O’Neill with the exhibition “The Rolling Stones – It’s only rock and roll (but I like it). Oh, well, I like it, I like it, I like it “ I know it’s only rock ‘n roll but I like it, like it, yes, I do I said I know it’s only rock ‘n roll but I like it
“Would it be enough for your cheating heart
ONLY ROCK AND ROLL BUT I LIKE IT MOVIE
“Years will pass and politicians will never make a dick to make the world better, but around the world boys and girls will always have their dreams, and they will translate those dreams into songs.” From the movie “I love radio rock” by Richard Curtis There is a sentence, very simple and trivial if we want, taken from a film that makes the idea of a generation devoted to the necessity of art.
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