Jim Haynes
Jim Haynes was a passionate committed instigators of many of the sixties counter-culture events. Jim a non-drinking, non-smoking and non-drug-taking friend. I met him on a visit to Indica, the new bookstore and gallery. Jim didn’t just talk about doing things; he had a history of doing them. In Edinburgh during his military service in the late fifties, he’d opened The Paperback, a bookshop along the lines of City Lights in San Francisco. With friends Jim created the Traverse Theater, which brought Beckett and Ionesco to Scotland. In 1965, when things disintegrated financially, as they often did with Jim, he headed for London, where he became one of the leading figures in the 1960s counter culture.
Jim was an easygoing generous person. His I’ve-just-gotten-out-of-bed, laid-back manner may have been affected, but with his stated desire to make love to almost every available woman, he probably had just gotten out of bed.
”I’m a confirmed anti-romantic,” he said one evening when he came to my place for dinner with friends. “It’s Dorothy Parker’s fault. Her cynicism made me question the nature of love, and I came to believe love should be non-exclusive.”
Patti, one of the girls present looked at him disapprovingly. “Men are exploiting us, turning sex into a commodity, isolated from affection or love.” I was pleased she had voiced my own disappointment with the sexual revolution. Namely, that men had appropriated it. In the past the price of sex had been marriage now it was reduced to a dinner.
Eric objected. “Sure men are interested in casual sex, but I don’t see the harm in that. Non-possessiveness of one’s sexual partner is, after all, an aim of hippie counter-culture.”
Patti frowned. “How do you feel about multiple relationships?”
Eric glanced around the room, aware that he was being put on the spot.
“If it’s sex, pure and simple, then far out. Multiple relationships? I can’t even manage one.” I caught Adrienne’s eye. The emotional distance she and Eric kept, after the loss of their first love, was their personal answer to pain. Conceivably my glance prompted Adrienne to say, “Making love is a natural part of life. We should do it with whomever we like, without guilt or the embarrassment of past generations.”
I laughed. “If only we could.”
Jim gently stroked his short beard thoughtfully. “Amen! Everyone needs a cuddle.”
That summer of 1967, the ever-active Jim Haynes started the Arts Lab an experimental theater and mixed media center in a couple of derelict warehouses in Drury Lane. Without the existence of that Arts Lab, the landscape of both the arts and popular culture would be significantly different today. With a group of volunteers Jim installed a cinema downstairs, a theater out back, an exhibition area and bookstall in the entrance, and a more or less non-stop café, run by Sue Miles. People were encouraged to eat, talk, act, watch a movie, or just have a “kip” (nap). The Arts Lab quickly became a social center where all sorts of people just popped in. On a given night, one might bump into anyone, from John Lennon, David Bowey, Paul McCartney to James Baldwin. Jim would wander through announcing that, in a few minutes, a light show, a musical performance, even an unproduced play, or an all-night poetry reading, would take place. Almost anything could be an Arts Lab event, and almost everything was at one time or another. Jim’s liberal belief that everyone should have a chance meant the quality was uneven as no one made a selection. The second building housed the theater with most performances more odd than original, and the only financial success (it played to a packed house for five weeks) was a mini-musical called Vagina Rex and the Gas Oven by Jane Arden. It was a presentation on the lines of Hair but more extreme, as the entire cast was totally nude throughout. Most of the productions were fairly unmemorable, except for three presentations. They included Jeff Nutall’s perverse play The Peoples Show. Jeff was co-founder, writer, actor and improviser of that theater troupe. The other two exceptions were the experimental theatre groups The Pip Simmons Theater, which was formed in 1968 and Dave Hare with the Portable Theater.
In 1990 I dropped in on Jim. Yes, the same Jim Haynes of the Arts Lab and UFO days. Every Sunday Jim held open house in his charming cul-de-sac, in the 14th arrondissment of Paris. The atelier was part of a group of buildings constructed for the 1900’s Paris Exhibition to allow people to visit and see works-of-art-in-progress by artists, such as Matisse. Jim was unchanged, a few more wrinkles and a little belly, still the slightly rumpled look as if he’d just gotten out of bed. I sat down to watch him being filmed by a foreign TV company. Behind him, the sun streaked through the high double-windows, lighting up the mezzanine and sitting area where a wall of videotapes filled the room from floor to ceiling.
I was shocked that Dorothy Parker, a woman so intelligent, could be so cynical about love.” Jim said to the interviewer.
“What do you mean?” the interviewer asked.
“She didn’t believe in romantic love because of men’s double standard. Men wanted sexual freedom for themselves but not for women.” Glancing in my direction, he added, “Freedom for both, I say. I love assertive women, and I think it is a shame that people mistake assertiveness for aggression.”
“Can you define your viewpoint more?”
“If I had to put it in real terms I would call myself a humanist.”
The interviewer frowned in irritation. “What’s a humanist?”
Jim smiled benignly, as if dealing with an uneducated child. He opened the dictionary and pointed to the word humanism. It was defined as “an intellectual system of moral ethics that values the humanitarian interests of mankind above the divine and supernatural. “All we have to do is include the word womankind and that sums up a humanist.”
“They took a break and Jim presented me to Don, the young interviewer. “Karen’s a futurist! She’s made a career predicting fashion trends for world’s top designers.”
Don gazed at me speculatively and asked, “Can you give us some predictions for the future?”
“I’m not exactly a clairvoyant,” I said with a laugh, “but I think the hippie movement is far from dead.” Don looked unconvinced. “What we need now are more public role models. You know, people like you making films about people happy in love, satisfied in their work, proud of quality and craftsmanship. That could really change the world.”
“Where is the profit?” he asked. “No one would pay.”
“And why not?” I asked. “Imagine the impact on the world if films showed people taking responsibility for themselves, for their acts, for our environment, instead of the endless films of war, crime and murder.”
Jim shook his head and laughed. “Well, you asked her.”