Sinead
Sinead O'Connor, 1988
I was driving my two sons to a Man United game in Houston when I heard the news that Sinead O'Connor had died. Upon hearing my reaction, my eldest son said, 'Dad, it seems like someone you love like this dies every month.' True enough. Perhaps it speaks to the age I am now... which, coincidentally, is the same age as Sinead (she was, in fact, two weeks younger than I).
I was an early adopter when it came to Sinead O'Connor. I bought her first album when it came out, in 1988. I've followed her career, and to some extent her personal life (since the two became inextricable early on) over the many years since.
Like others, I sometimes despaired at her erratic behavior, and the consequences that behavior bore her, at least before it emerged that she had been diagnosed as bipolar and was dealing with difficult mental health issues. In more recent years it was difficult to feel anything other than empathy for her struggles. But I never for a second ceased to admire her talent, feel in awe of her courage, her resilience, her generosity and her refusal to compromise.
I admired her for this most of all, in fact. More than anyone I can think of, she refused to compromise her artistic vision or her personal beliefs.
Much has been written about her in the last couple of days, most of it positive - though not the despicable and snide obituary published in The Guardian. I wouldn't quote it other than in rebuke, but for its author to write that she 'lacked the obsessive drive to keep a top-flight pop career alive' clearly shows that she was unqualified to write the piece, lacking all understanding of artistic process in general, and of Sinead O'Connor in particular. O'Connor's career, spanning thirty years, ten albums and numerous successful collaborations, all through a life rarely free of personal upheaval, marks the very definition of obsessive drive.
She gave so much, on so many levels, overcoming almost insurmountable obstacles. What a loss.
Two links
If you want to see an exercise in courage, dignity and artistry, watch her infamous performance of WAR at the Bob Dylan tribute concert.
If you prefer the pure brilliance and power of live performance, and a magical song, here's a grainy version of Troy from 1988 (she was 22).
The Juice is a journal dedicated to things that inform or are a part of my creative practice.