A tribute to a Tribute. Still In Love With You – The Philip Lynott Exhibition is an unprecedented project, based on the love and affection that is widely felt for a great Irish artist. What’s more it has been an astounding success, with fans arriving from all over the world to immerse themselves in its unique glow.

They have come from the four corners of Ireland. They have travelled from the furthest reaches of the UK. And they have also come from further afield: from Germany, France, Sweden, Norway, Denmark, Spain and Italy in Europe; and from places as disparate and different as Japan, Canada and Brazil too.
As the exhibition prepares to wrap up its Dublin summer run – by which time over 30,000 people will have visited it – a significant date in the Lynott calendar is fast approaching. On August 20, we celebrate the birth of Philo.

It is an astonishing thought. Were he alive today, Philip Parris Lynott would be just about to turn 62 years of age. Try to picture what he might look like. The hair would have to have receded. There would be grey streaks. There would be bags under his eyes. He might not carry himself to his full 6ft 2ins height. But the twinkle would still be there in his eyes, and the mischievousness that went with it. And without a shadow of a doubt he would still have that essential rock ’n’ roll swagger which made Philip Lynott what he was: the rock ’n’ roll prototype that other Irish artists could only ever try to emulate.
And so with all of that in mind, let us reflect on both the remarkable man who irrevocably changed the rock landscape in Ireland, and the remarkable journey that getting this tribute to him off the ground entailed.
The kernel of the idea was formed more or less at this time last year. The idea was to do a mini exhibition at The Music Show, which went ahead over the first weekend in October. But it became clear in the preparation of that exhibition that only the surface was being scratched. As the dust settled on The Music Show, the feeling was: why not go the whole hog? Why not do it properly and get the whole Philip Lynott saga down in exhibition form?

Easier said than done. Making this celebration of Philip’s life and times a reality proved a massive undertaking. In creative terms, it has more than paid off, as anyone who has ventured up to the top floor of St. Stephen’s Green Shopping Centre can attest. The beauty of it was that it quickly became clear that, far from merely assembling some museum piece, a whole new chapter in the book of Lynott and Lizzy was being written.

Plans for The Philip Lynott Exhibition were announced on January 4, the 25th anniversary of the great man’s death. The date was chosen for its resonance with family, friends and fans of Phil, but also to add something positive to the day’s inevitably sad proceedings. And so it did. There was a huge celebration when it launched in the centre of Dublin on March 4, with hundreds thronging onto the top floor in the Stephen’s Green Shopping Centre to be the first to experience what was on offer. The reaction that night was immensely positive. All the concerns of the sceptics were answered, and then some. It was an extraordinary and wonderfully fulfilling night for everyone who was involved.

The fact that the exhibition thunders on more than four months later, to a point where it will now open its doors to be part of his birthday celebrations – to honour the very beginning of the legend – feels fitting. It feels right. That was always our hope for the memorial which The Philip Lynott Exhibition represents – to trace a life of great achievements, from inauspicious false-starts to super-stardom and immortality, without shirking from the pain and tragedy but ultimately capturing the light, the hope and the inspiration that Philip Lynott left behind.

“Magnificent, majestic, almost mystical... it truly captures Phil’s spirit.”
BRUSH SHIELS

So let’s go back to the beginning of the journey. Work on The Philip Lynott Exhibition began following the Music Show in October 2010. The aim? To give a once-in-a-lifetime, wide-ranging, detailed and most importantly personal insight into the man behind the myth.

A six-week period was devoted to getting the location just right. Over a dozen places were scoped. Detailed plans were developed for a number. In the end – no matter how attractive others might have been in different ways – the feeling emerged that St. Stephen’s Green was the perfect place for the exhibition to be housed. After all, the Green is right in the heart of what was Philip’s Dublin stomping ground. Neary’s, The Bailey and the buildings that once housed The Coffee Inn and Switzer’s are all close by. The sleeve of Shades Of A Blue Orphanage featured shots taken in the Green itself. It was a place where the rock ’n’ roll youth of Dublin used to go to hang out and blow joints in the late ‘60s and early ‘70s. The top floor of Stephen’s Green Shopping Centre overlooked it. It was, it seemed, a wonderfully symbolic location.

Next came The Great Search. The Hot Press archives were trawled, iconic photography chosen. Then we turned to you: friends, family, fans. The call was put out for all those beloved artifacts: those cherished posters, postcards, ticket stubs, gig lists, record sleeves, love letters, scribbled lyrics and so on, that would become etched in the nation’s collective psyche.
As associates of Lynott – bandmates, buddies and managers – all dug deep into the mines, we unearthed some pure gold. Record sleeves, artwork and scrapbooks were passed on. These were items not ‘locked in the vaults’ but placed carefully in the back of wardrobes, stored in attics, or otherwise kept for posterity. They were an important part of people’s pasts, but isolated from one another their power was limited. They couldn’t tell a story.

Now, however, for the first time, they would be brought together to present a proper narrative. The logistics and practicalities of setting up the exhibition had to be grappled with and thereby hangs another tale of people stretching themselves to the limit in the cause. But the practical difficulties were overcome in the end, and by the time the March opening came around, we had a dedicated space in Philip Lynott’s hometown that told his story.
It was at once a rock ’n’ roll sanctuary, a paean to his memory and a trip that anyone with even a passing interest in rock ‘n’ roll could hardly resist taking.

“You really get an insight into how hard Philip Lynott and Thin Lizzy worked, which is a revelation.”
DAMIEN DEMPSEY

It was important not to simply present ‘Phil as Rock God’. The attitude, the style, the songs – they can all be sampled by grabbing a copy of Live And Dangerous. His memory demanded something more intimate, more reflective. That personal touch. The late, great Bill Graham once wrote in Hot Press of there being “many Phil Lynotts” and that is undeniably true.
He was human, he was fragile, there were flaws streaked through his genius – that was what made him Philo. When the exhibition first launched, one national newspaper suggested that if the Irish were looking for a hero, ‘St. Phil’ might just work. It was a well-meant suggestion but somewhat wide of the mark. Philo was no saint. Thank god for that.

We could retell the story here of the Crumlin lad of mixed race who grew up sticking out like a sore thumb: the first black man in Ireland (well, almost, but not quite!). Of how he made a virtue of his differences. Of the fact that his blackness was a distinct advantage when it came to entanglements with members of the opposite sex! Of how he teamed up with some of the finest musicians this country has ever known and blasted his own brand of new Irish rock ‘n’ roll all around Dublin before taking it to the world stage. Of his problems with addiction, his demons, his eventual death. And of how the sheer quality of his work and the strength of his example rose above all that, creating a legacy that will live on long after the rest of us are gone. But you can google that. It is just… text.

The underlying logic of the exhibition is that his story is best told in tangible things. Snapshots of a real life lived. Memories you can touch and feel. All those possessions he held dear, the private things he said and the way he said them, the pictures and the poses – all of the unexpected and, for the most part previously unseen things which now allow us to connect with Phil not as a rock star, but as a poet, a lover, a friend, a father and a son. That is The Philip Lynott Exhibition’s greatest achievement.

“Thank you for helping me remember my Daddy.”
SARAH LYNOTT

So what is in the exhibition, and why has it had such an extraordinary impact on people? Why does it resonate so deeply and leave such a lasting impact?
There is the fact that it tells the story of Philip’s career in superb, pithy, finely calibrated prose. Year by year, from the moment Philip launched the Lizzy flying machine, it is all there: the highs and lows, the breakthroughs, the detours and the blistering successes. But there is so much more than this too…

There’s his baptismal certificate, bringing us back to his mother Philomena’s struggle in an intolerant time. There’s his school report, making us remember the child inside the man, and the bicycle he rode as a delivery boy, now battered and rusty, tracing the journey through his formative years.
There’s postcards, Phil writing about his perfect woman, drafts of lyrics, all reminding us of Phil the romantic, Phil the poet, Phil the lover of love, words and life itself. Gig lists and old bar receipts show the practicalities of being in a struggling, hard-working, hard-drinking band and the inevitable toll that takes. You move past his Manchester United shares and think of the delight he would have taken in watching his beloved team become the most successful English side of all time. There’s the original sleeve of ‘The Farmer’, which sold a mere 283 copies and scarcely hints at what was to come. 

And then the immortal parts, the iconic pieces. His bass guitars. His black coat from the ‘Old Town’ video. Liam Quigley’s wonderful photos from the early years. Colm Henry’s iconic work from the peak years. And, in the Stella Cinema itself – well the Exhibition evocation of the Stella – there are the songs that changed people’s sense of what Irish rock could do, could aspire to. ‘Whiskey In The Jar’. ‘The Boys Are Back In Town’. ‘Still In Love With You’. And of course ‘Old Town’, which was released under the Philip Lynott umbrella and which – in a powerfully warm and wonderfully sweet video – captured Philip’s links to his own hometown, his love for dirty old Dublin.

So many aspects of Philip Lynott’s life and career are duly represented, in the various nooks and crannies in every room of the exhibition – in every way adding depth, shade and perspective to a wonderfully colourful, larger-than-life character.
Of course, you step outside the exhibition and you’re still on Phil’s turf. You walk out onto the cover scene from Shades Of A Blue Orphanage. You sweep down Grafton Street where the man himself once walked. You pass a bronze fella on Harry Street who looks the spit of him. In a sense, the whole of Dublin is a living, breathing memorial to Phil, dotted with landmarks. But his most lasting influence lies in the minds of the people, in Ireland itself.
Philip Lynott symbolised diversity, tolerance and modernity. He arrived just in time to take both rock music and our Celtic nation by the scruff of the neck, kicking and singing towards prosperity and multi-culturalism.

Where once he was the lone black man strutting around town, the place is now a melting pot of races, religions and opinions, renewing and strengthening our culture and sense of identity. And, quite simply, he made it cool to be Irish. That newfound confidence and take-on-the-world attitude? It was all there in that legendary afro and those well-heeled boots. Times have been tough of late, but the music of Lizzy is always there to pick us up, dust us off and put a smile on our face. We hope the exhibition has done the same.

“Belle Expo, magnifiques souvenirs.”
CHRISTOPHE GESLIN

It would be a wrong to suggest his influence was restricted to this little green island. It is easy to underestimate, given the passage of time and what it does to our memories, but the testimonials of internationally-renowned bands and musicians who continue to flock to Dublin to honour Lynott confirms the scale his international impact. Pop up to the exhibition and you might just bump into one of them. Flick through the visitors’ book and you’ll see scrawled messages of awe and wonder. That Thin Lizzy sign hung above the entrance? You’ll find a similar one in Metallica’s HQ.

Yes, the disciples of hard rock and newer heroes too still worship at Philo’s altar. But it goes further than that. Within the exhibition, there are tributes to Philip from Jon Bon Jovi, Van Morrison, Laura Izibor, Joe Elliott, Julian Casablancas, James Hetfield, Bono and more. There are video interview with those who worked with him: Scott Gorhan, Brian Robertson, Eric Bell, Darren Wharton and more; and there are exclusive video reflections from Irish stars including Bono, Imelda May and Damien Dempsey on what Philip Lynott meant to them and the impact he had on Irish music and musicians.

The diversity Phil stood for in his everyday life extended to his music. Combining hard rock attitude with the soul of a poet, he could turn his hand to almost any style. Thin Lizzy was a vehicle for his more straightforward, rockier ambitions. But the solo Philip Lynott albums confirmed that he had depth and versatility. He did folk, jazz, reggae, funk, rap and pop – managing each of the genres with style as well as substance. Going back to the words of Bill Graham (as you can so often find yourself doing), at one time, Lynott’s diversity was in danger of being disregarded. Now it is being properly appreciated.

Lynott himself would have loved the strange twists and turns popular music has taken over the past 25 years, as a result of which his music has been adopted by all and sundry. The New York block parties that sprang from the South Bronx and gave birth to hip hop are just one example. The pioneering Afrika Bambaataa and Tricky Tee made sure of that, as samples of ‘Johnny The Fox’ became a staple of the new sound, a cornerstone of a good night on the street. And that’s just one example of his unexpected and often under-appreciated reach. Head West or East and you’ll find Phil. As recently as January, a Thin Lizzy tribute album, Courtesy Of, was released in Sweden. It was recorded by Joachim Amorell and his band Courtesy Of, in collaboration with the Czech National Symphony Orchestra and produced by Lars Anderson.
From Crumlin sheds to theatres in Prague. In so many ways, that sums it up.

“Makes me want to get a guitar and play
a gig.”
JOHN JR.

This is it. Rather than diminishing with the passage of time, Philip Lynott’s influence has instead spread far and wide since his all too early exit. His flame, rather than dimming, has sparked a greater fire. And 2011 has seen it burning with particular intensity.
The Philip Lynott Exhibition has played its part in that. It has been the calm, reflective centre of a storm of interest and activity which has further burnished the enduring Thin Lizzy tale. The year so far has been an eventful one.

There has been tragedy – the untimely death of the impossibly-gifted guitarist Gary Moore that came as a blow to all in February – and triumph – the release of a newly updated edition of Philomena Lynott’s My Boy, which became a No. 1 bestselling book once again. In that way, the year 2011 has been akin to Philip’s life in microcosm. Tinged with adversity and sorrow but full of the highest of highs and the promise of more beautiful memories just around the corner.

The Philip Lynott Exhibition is of course a memorial, a tribute to the past – but it also offers us all the chance to participate in something that will enrich our present and our future. The countdown is now on to its final day in Dublin. It’s not too late to see it now. But very shortly it will be too late to experience it in this wonderful and utterly memorable shape. These things come along only so often. And as rock ’n’ roll fans, it is our privilege to experience them and to cherish them, when the opportunity is there.
But first – before the doors finally close in Dublin – there’s the small matter of a birthday party to plan. We’ll see you there.

My Boy: The Philip Lynott Story by Philomena Lynott and Jackie Hayden is published by Hot Press Books.