Slim Dali remembered

Slim shared an unnerving resemblance to his great uncle Salvador Dali, the renowned surrealist Spanish artist. Looks were not all they had in common. They also shared a creative gene.

For over a decade, Slim has been a rising star both as a jazz singer and painter. He approached Solar House recently – my place that overlooks the northern end of Talacre Gardens – because, he said, he was breaking into a new phase in his work as an artist, using local architecture as an inspiration.

There was more to Slim, however, than his public persona. He loved his neighbourhood in a way that very few residents managed and had many occasions to prove his loyalty since he moved into the then St Pancras & Humanist Housing Estate of Athlone House some 20 years ago.

At the beginning of the 21st century, our neighbourhood went through a tough time when displaced drug dealers, prostitutes and other ‘edgy’ folk dislodged from the King’s Cross area flooded Talacre. Local people, including Slim, banded together to form a Neighbourhood Watch and sought to clean up the streets.

Our main concern was the children who were seeing behaviour no child should ever witness. Drug dealing, drug abuse were going on 24/7, as well as violence and other serious criminality. Residents, among which Slim and Jean Edwards, a local patchwork artist, campaigned for their landlord and neighbouring land owner to transform a plot of land at the back of the Athlone estate from a scruffy drug dealing haven into a safe garden for the children to meet and create artworks. Sadly Jean Edwards died before the project was completed, but the garden now bears her name.

Slim was part of the solution. He not only joined the Talacre Gardens Neighbourhood Watch, he also offered his help working along side local kids to create two permanent Art Walls at the newly created Jean Edwards Memorial Garden. Using mixed medium, paint and mosaic they were sponsored by Camden grants. Still standing today they remind us of what the community can accomplish when it gets together against a common enemy. Some time later, the police finally got to grips with the criminals and peace was restored.

The next ambition was to save our local park, Talacre Gardens, from being destroyed by a developer who sought to run a vehicular road across it. Slim joined the Friends of Talacre Gardens and, once again, offered his help to create a Gaudi-inspired bench together with some 400 local kids under the supervision of Art4Space teachers. It took three years of hard campaigning to save Talacre Gardens from destruction. In the end, Camden yielded to the will of local residents and registered the open space as a Town Green, hence saving the amenity for all time.

Slim was very much part of the history of this community, its fights and successes.

People have asked why someone like Slim Dali chose to live in a social housing estate. The answer, in part, is simple. Slim loved belonging to this community, even though his strange appearance often got local residents looking at him askance. He didn’t mind, however. He even sympathised with those who saw him that way. His appearance belied a more genteel background, however.

Unknown to most, Slim was the son of a French aristocratic family, his mother being the award-winning actress Stéphane Audran, née Colette Suzanne Dacheville. When I met his father, an elegant businessman who now lives in Morocco, I was taken aback by his meticulous attire and exquisite behaviour. This is how Slim behaved too on a one-to-one basis.

The last time I saw Slim was just a couple weeks ago when a 24 bus took a diversion route and left me in a totally unfamiliar area in the West End. Slim spotted me in a state of distress and came to the rescue. “I have an important appointment at BAFTA, and now I am totally lost,” I said. Just like some angel of mercy, he took me by the hand and walked me confidently through various back roads to my destination. “Thank you,” I said profusely. “Today you did a good deed. You will go to heaven you know!” I joked. He laughed heartily in that raucous charming voice of his.

Little did we know then how quickly this was to happen.