#stu and astrid

[ludmilachaibemachado]

Astrid, John and Stu in front of The Cavern on Mathew Street, 1961💐🌸🪴

📸Mike McCartney

Via Beatlemania on Facebook🍃

[harrisonsbabygirl]

John and George visiting Stuart Sutcliffes room. Photographed by Astrid Kirchherr.

“After Stuart’s death, John and George really cared about me. They used to come and see me in my home. It was actually John’s suggestion. John said, ‘Can I see where he used to paint?’ So I said, ‘Of course, you can.’

“In that moment, I had to take a picture of them. I just grabbed this old chair and put it there. And John was so full of emotion, being in the same room where his friend was just painting, that he nearly burst out in tears. And George was all a bit worried. So I just said to George, ‘Well, stand behind him.’ You could see how quickly George understood what it was all about, death and being alive.

[sweet-trippy]

im glad the Beatle look was partially thanks to the most lesbian looking couple alive.

[javelinbk]

Can anyone lend me £40k, I need to buy John’s ‘choccies and a throbber’ letter…

John Lennon’s letter to Cynthia Powell, sent from the Star Club in Hamburg, April 1962, on auction with Christie’s

[beatle-stories333]

i love how john, cynthia, astrid, paul, klaus, jürgen, and sometimes ringo talk about george like he’s their lil baby boy

[beatlesficrecs]

(You’ve got to pick up) every stitch

https://archiveofourown.org/works/21288626

By @unchaineddaisychain / Unchained_Daisychain on AO3

Summary: John hates Halloween, but he loves making his ex jealous. And if he uses a total stranger to do it, well…what’s the harm in that?

I love this fic because it’s so perfectly seasonal. I personally have been drunk in a bathtub at a college party, and there’s something so cozy and familiar about Halloween college parties. This fic has that, as well as scorching hot tension between John and Paul. Oh, it’s also amazingly well written. I think any John/paul fan would love this!

Link to fic

[groovybananastarfish]

[muzaktomyears]

On stage [John] would often try to get laughs at the expense of Paul, whose favourite oldie ballad at this time was still Over the Rainbow (later it would be Till There Was You).

Paul, blinking his big brown eyes at the girls in the audience, would announce that he had received lots of requests for Over the Rainbow, at which John would prop himself against the Cavern piano and burst into a raucous laugh, followed by: “God! He’s doing Judy Garland!” while Paul’s fans whispered, nudged each other expectantly and simmered with ‘ooohs’ and ‘aaahs’. John would play seriously for a while as Paul gave his emotional all to the song; then John would suddenly start to pull a grotesque face or adopt his wicked hunchback pose against the piano, head tucked into his shoulders, featured contorted. Eyes in the audience would begin to stray from Paul and some laughter would follow, gathering pace at John’s antics. Paul would get mad and on occasion have to stop in the middle of his ballad. Then he and John would both start clowning. Another of John’s tricks during these solo offerings of Paul’s was to produce a series of weird sounds from his guitar that intruded into the melody like sore thumbs. Again Paul would not be too pleased and John would gaze around the stage in all innocence.

Beatle! The Pete Best Story, Pete Best and Patrick Doncaster (1985)

[lost-ashley]

Masterlist

"Pretty girls involved with me"

Shamless

Carl Gallagher

Come back, bby!

Fiona Gallagher

Come back, bby!

Lip Gallagher

Come back, bby!

Steve Harrington

STRANGER THINGS

Come back, bby!

Robin Buckley

Come back, bby!

Eddie Munson

Come back, bby!

Billy Hargrove

Come back bby!

THIRTEEN (MINOR FRIENDLY)

Tracy freeland

Come back, bby!

Evie Zamora

Come back, bby!

Astrid...?

Come back, bby!

CALL OF DUTY

Simon 'Ghost' Riley

Come back bby!

Konig

Come back bby!

SCREAM

Ethan Landry

Come back bby!

Chad Meeks

Come back bby!

Mindy Meeks

Come back bby!

Amber Freeman

Come back bby!

Anika Kayoko

Come back bby!

Billy Loomis

Come back bby!

Stu Macher

Come back bby!

CELEBS

Madison beer

Come back, bby!

Billie Eilish

Come back, bby!

Madi Filipowicz

Come back bby!

Tarayummy

Come back bby!

Request for more. You'll get more!

"Makin' pretty love to me, pretty."

[imagine-mokey]

John gets a letter from his old friend Astrid, along with pictures of their shared lover, Stuart Sutcliffe.

[beatlblog]

#they’re so dumb!!#men when they have to communicate to one anotther#I love this (via blueberrylolart)

#And if i said this is real psychological analysis then what#i love this so much (via sont-des-mots)

#poly bugs#poly Beatles (via nuvemzinhacorderosa)

#you did it! you broke the hamburg era into it's bare essentials (via ozymandiasdirge)

#I forgot what Stu and Mclennons ship name is. if there is one (via beatblogging)

[thewalrusespublicist]

Hello! Love your blog and your takes, objective and sane and well researched chefs kiss! I had a blast scrolling through it like it was my feed yesterday lol can you elaborate on klaus and Paul if possible? People mostly talk about them like it’s already understood but I don’t understand 😭 I’m kinda lost on their (all of them, including stu) dynamic during the hamburg years specifically when it comes to Paul

Aww thank you anon! Tbh I was starting to feel a bit down about my blog and what I was putting out ( the eternal crisis on how to give full answers and opinions without being stupid, boring and annoying lol). So I really, really needed this. :)

Oh Paul vs/and the Exsis, it's quite a long one so buckle up.

Disclaimer: all of the people involved are essentially art kids/young adults who are famously the most exhausting people on the planet. Do not blame them for being dramatic, it's their natural state of being.

If we want to go into Paul and Klaus, we have to kind of start with the John, Paul and Stu. Now these three are a mess that's too big to go into here (though I have THOUGHTS about how Stu is utilised in the Beatles narrative that I'm more than happy to share if asked lmaooo). But in short(ish):

John and Paul had had an intense year and a bit of closeness. Then John meets Stu at art college.

John and Stu become c l o s e for many reasons (being peers, living together, similar artistic leanings + ego, Stu being a gentle guide to John, sharing art projects/poetry/long letters and feelings etc.) They became 'closer than two men' a friend had seen (remind us of anyone gang?). Most importantly, John could be open about his feelings with Stu in letters. If John had BPD which I subscribe too, I think Stu was his 'favourite person' and as Aunt Mimi said his 'special' and 'closest friend' from this period up until his death (though imho the transference back to Paul was starting prior to his death).

It's not clear what exactly happens as there's differing accounts but Stu uses his money to buy a new bass as John wants him to come to Scotland then Hamburg and play bass as he will 'look good'.

Paul doesen't like being relegated to the seat behind John and Stu when he used to sit next to John. He also isn't thrilled when he gets to Hamburg and not only does he get to sleep in the other room with just Pete but Stu cannot be arsed to play because he's hanging out with his hot new girlfriend Astrid (more on her in a sec). Our boy has spent a lot of money he doesen't have and given up on further education to be here and is jealous and annoyed.

Paul and Stu probably were friends and I think their mutual antipathy is overegged. HOWEVER, can't be denied that Paul is jealous of Stu and Stu is jealous of Paul (and getting flare-ups from increasing brain damage). John and Stu tease Paul and steal his money, Paul is mean to Stu (as are the others encouraged by John). Do I think John was playing games with both of them? Yup. They end up scuffling onstage because Paul said something about Astrid (not clear what, one account is that Paul said that Stu could borrow money off Astrid if he needed it which isn't really that bad a dig but who knows Yoko??).

Why is this dynamic important? Because it directly impacts the 'Exsis' (Klaus, Jurgen and Astrid's) group's relationship with Paul:

The Exsis were young artists living in Hamburg. They were artistic, cool, interesting and edgy. They were paramount in introducing the Beatles to cool new concepts, aesthetics and ideas. They also took themselves VERY seriously ie pretentious as all hell.

Astrid met Stu at Kaiserkeller and hit it off. They embarked on an all-consuming romance.

Letter from Stu to Astrid, c.1961

I've seen people say they were the proto-John and Yoko in terms of making their romance the whole world and influencing John years down the line and I can see that. With Astrid and Stu it's far more endearing though because they ARE young and the right age to have a relationship like that. Stu is popular with the Exsis in general and brings them into the Beatles group.

The Exsis didn't like or trust Paul. Astrid said later it was because Paul was 'too nice' which she herself admits is a ridiculous reason. The others also thought he was a bit of a show-off. It makes sense though if you're cool and edgy and want to stick it to the world to be sus about a guy being friendly show-off with seemingly no inner world. The other problem was a perfectly reasonable one imo, you're not going to like your friends frenemy who you don't connect with. Compound that with Paul not taking drugs as much as George or John and being in the other room and you begin to have a division.

Paul had been popular his whole life, like from what we know since-primary-school-popular. He had never been in this position before, let alone in a foreign country. I believe it became a bit of a brutal feedback loop. Paul's response to this type of behaviour consistently it to go more surface level, snide and passive aggressive. The natural response of any group with a designated 'ugh' person is to become more shady and exclusionary. The cycle continues and gets worse. Stu letters back home at this time says that in a shocking turn of events Paul is hated by everyone but Stu 'just feels sorry for him' (lmao OF COURSE you do Stu, its giving 'loathing' from Wicked lol). Klaus drew a lot of artwork of the early Hamburg Beatles that includes this highly unpleasant picture of Paul in 1961 which I think says a lot:

Klaus is also a musician and fancies himself a place on bass. When Stu leaves to pursue art, Klaus asks John if he could take over but John says that he thinks Paul is going to do it.

Klaus has later gone on to say that he thinks he was a better bass player for the Beatles' sound at the start and then Paul developed into being better for the group. It's one of those I cannot believe those words actually left your mouth and you are not deeply embarrased moments. But it's important to keep this desire and viewpoint in mind.

Klaus stays in touch with all of them and close to John and George, George especially. They visit Klaus on holiday in tenerife in early 60s and Klaus later draws the Revolver artwork.

This whole context of how they met and Hamburg is crucial and has to be taken into account when hearing Klaus' statements. Klaus and Paul started off with a lack of connection and with Paul on the outs, the Exsis got an incomplete view of Paul and an inaccurate snapshot of the Beatles dynamic overall. This is why when Klaus says 'Paul was always slightly apart from the others' and that 'divorce was inevitable' from early 60s we should remember that that is what Klaus is expecting to see as that's what he saw in Hamburg.

Klaus wanted to be the bass player (and was holding out hope to join a band with George and John in the 70s), was really close with George and suffers as many did with 'John Lennon aspiring boy bestie syndrome' (JABBS). Paul had what Klaus wanted and from the Hamburg experience, you could see why Klaus thought he might have an in and may have been jealous of this 'shallow' Paul of all people having the connection that he felt he should/could have with John and George. As with most sufferers of JABBS, he took John's side with everything, always refused to say any regrets about his involvement in How do you Sleep and thought Paul was fine with the song because 'he was even closer to John than [he] was. (Again Klaus to put yourself in that level of closeness with John that it's comparable to Paul is ???.) JABBS and its secondary condition PMIETGSH (Paul McCartney isn't even that good shut up) are virulent diseases that incapacitate sufferers objectivity and judgement, so it's fair to say that Klaus is a source you have to take with a pinch of salt on the early 70s period.

It seems that Klaus and Paul did get on a lot better the older they got (probably without the jealousy complication of George and John) and developed a sweet friendship. Here is Klaus' tribute to Paul for his 80th:

Here is the jam session he's talking about:

He now wants Paul to live in his house lmao so things have gotten warmer. But Klaus and Paul's dynamic is a great example of how and why natural bias, little jealousies and spats can consciously or subconsciously influence our internal narrative and why we need to be so careful about not taking one perspective as gospel.

[thebeatles]

When Paul and Stu had a fight in Hamburg.

[Dot Rhone] must have sensed things were coming to a head, because the next night, while she and Cynthia were "dollying up" at Astrid's house, the phone rang. It was Stuart. convulsed by a white rage, sounding completely irrational. When he learned that Dot was there, "he insisted that Astrid toss me out," Dot recalls. Astrid calmed him down enough to determine what had happened. Paul and Stuart had finally had it out, not in private, but onstage in the middle of a set, in full view of astonished German audience. They had been backing Tony Sheridan for the nine o’ clock set. Paul, at the piano, where he had recently been pounding out guitar chords with innate flair. Was muttering to himself, vexed by the enormity of Stuart’s mistakes.  At some point, he let go with an utterly outrageous comment about Astrid that hit a nerve. Stuart dropped the bass into he middle of the stage, lunged at Paul and caught him “with such a wallop that it knocked him off his stool.” The fight, which had been brewing for months, was wild and fierce. Stuart and Paul rolled on the floor, punching and stomping each other, while the other Beatles and Tony Sheridan soldiered on. “They beat the shit out of each other,” says an observer, and thrashed about until the song ended when John, George and Pete finally pried them apart. Nothing was settled by the fight, but as Pete Best interpreted it: “It was the beginning of the end for Stu as a Beatle.” Sutcliffe realized the situation was untenable. There was no place for him on that stage anymore; Paul - and even John, by his neutrality - had made that absolutely clear. Stuart moped around for a few days, disillusioned with the band and with himself. The constant insults, the humiliation - he’d had enough. There were more important things than playing with the Beatles. He had barely touched a paintbrush in months. That alone struck him as absurd. He’d made a horrendous mistake in ignoring his art for so long and needed to reclaim that part of his life. Despite the consequence of Stuart’s decision, there was no formal resignation.  Later that week he simply turned up at the Top Ten and told the others he was through with the band. It was all very matter-of-fact, devoid of lingering resentment or even drama.  If any of the Beatles were surprised, no one let it show, nor did anyone try to discourage Stuart from leaving. Stuart, for his part, couldn’t have been more accommodating. In a magnanimous gesture, he even handed his bass over to Paul in an acknowledgement of proper succession, but as Paul pointed out “he was only lending it to me, so he didn’t want me to change the strings around.

-The Beatles: The Biography (2005) by Bob Spitz.

[evrythingisabeatlesreferance]

On this day in 1962, the original bassist of the Beatles Stuart Sutcliffe died of a brain haemorrhage. Stu died on the way to hospital in Hamburg, Germany, and in the arms of his girlfriend Astrid Kirchherr. He was only 21.

[gardenwalrus]

Stuart was going to stay in Hamburg, cos he’d fallen in love with this girl Astrid [Kirchherr], who was part of a little set who called themselves the Exi’s, existentialists. They were very cool in black, tight trousers, little high-heeled boots. She was blonde, she had a short Peter Pan pageboy haircut, she looked dead cool. We’d never seen a chick like it. She dressed like a boy, a very slim little boy, so it was all, Fuckin’ hell, look at her!  I think we all fancied her but she fancied Stuart, who’d been the one guy who’d never been able to pull anything in our band. We’d always pulled before old Stu, but he got these great shades and struck a James Dean pose, got his hair going groovy like James Dean, so she went mad for him. And their group used to really like Stuart. I think it went: Stuart, John, George, me, Pete Best. That was their order of preference. They took some great photos of us. 

- Paul McCartney interview in Paul Du Noyer, Conversations with McCartney (2015) pp.34-35

[hannahssimblr]

Jen, though different in her appearance, is the same as I remember. Our last meeting, at Christmastime, we took a walk in the dark misery of St. Stephen’s day. Lights twinkled in the eaves of the seafront houses, reflecting on the slick tarmac after days of rain, and as usual, with Jen I felt normal, like nothing had really changed all that much since I moved away.

“There you are,” she says, like she saw me yesterday. 

“Your hair’s pink.” I say.

“It is, yeah.”

Now she is burying her face in the front of my coat, and her arms are stiff from the layers of clothing she’s wrapped around herself. From my chest, her voice is muffled. “Have you gotten taller?”

“I think you’ve shrunk, Jenny.”

“Probably my horrible diet. Can you imagine, I’ve not eaten a vegetable since Christmas?”

“I actually can imagine that.”

“Why? Do I look deathly?”

“No, you look nice.” She tilts her face to me, her round cheeks and upturned nose pink from the cold. “I’m still getting used to not seeing you every day.”

“It’s been a good while since you moved. Time you get used to it.”

I smile. “Are you hungry?”

“Starving.”

“Come on, then. We haven’t far to go.”

“This is actually pretty good,” Jen says, eating around the braised fennel on her plate, and picking out only the pieces of chicken. “Is there lemon in it, or something?”

“Lemon and some other stuff, yeah.”

“It’s tasty.”

“Jude is an excellent cook,” Astrid says. “I’m very lucky to have a boyfriend who cooks almost like a chef.”

“Yeah, you are,” Jen replies. 

The apartment is warm and clean, candles lit around the little living area, and one on the table, casting a warm glow over the food. It looks like a place an adult would live, one with intentional design choices, the right lampshades sourced from second-hand shops, artfully stacked books on the coffee table and all the little things one can accumulate just from living having found their place in organised drawers, or little ceramic bowls placed around the place. In the bathroom, there is incense lighting, and a little bouquet of dried flowers in an amber glass vase by the sink. It matches the other amber glassware, containing soap and lotion and shampoos, all carefully chosen from heaps of rubbish at flea markets. Only Astrid’s artistic eye could spot the potential in junk, take it home, clean it up, and make it worthy.

When I was at Jen’s little kip in Ranelagh a couple of months ago, I got drunk and drew a crude, biro drawing of a little bald man with a huge bare arse. I gave him a speech bubble saying ‘TIOLET’, and we stuck it to her bathroom door so that nobody would get lost trying to find it. We fell about laughing at it until I thought I’d get sick. Now, weeks later, I have served her roasted chicken marinated in ouzo on a table with linen placemats. I ignore the blatant divergence in how I have presented myself, and pray she doesn’t bring it up. 

“Jen, won’t you eat the fennel?” Jonas says. He’s finished his dinner, and she offers him the remains of hers. He piles her vegetables onto his plate. “It is so delicious, you know. It makes me wish Jude would cook for me at home.”

“He doesn’t?”

He laughs. “Not once. He’s always eating out or making toast for dinner.”

“That’s crazy. Jude! You’ve always been good at cooking. Why haven’t you treated your poor, suffering housemate?” Jen gapes at me in mock outrage while clinging to the sleeve of his shirt. He chuckles. He likes her. She likes him. I knew it would be like this, because everyone likes Jen, and everyone likes Jonas, and these people, the kinds that are easy to like, easy to get along with, fall into a simple rhythm with one another every time they encounter one another. This is one of the many benefits of having a personality that others do not find challenging. 

“I should,” I admit. “I’m just busy, you know?”

“Busy being a bad housemate! I can’t believe this.”

“Me neither,” Jonas nods, making valiant inroads into his second helping. “All this time, I thought you were some typical kind of student who cannot make even a bowl of pasta.”

“Well, I’ve proved you wrong.”

“You have. I misjudged you.”

“I’m surprised to hear you talk about Jude like this,” Astrid says. “I don’t see him that way.”

“Like what? Unable to cook pasta?” says Jen. 

“That he’s so irresponsible. For me, this has been a very grounding relationship. I feel he’s a steady person.”

How did I get this woman? I think, for at least the fourth time this evening. How have I been so fortunate?

Jen’s raucous laugh shatters the moment. “Him?” She says. “You find him to be reliable?”

“Well, yes, actually.”

“Easy know that you didn’t know him at school.”

“Oh, really?” Intrigue twinkles in Jonas’ eye. 

“Yes, he was a complete wild card. You should start just asking him to tally up the amount of days he was in detention over the six years. The things I witnessed…”

“He tells me almost nothing about his life in Ireland!” Jonas tosses his napkin onto the plate, and I roll my eyes. “There’s not much to tell. I’ve said already that Ireland was crap. There was never anything to do.”

“That’s true,” Jen says, “fair enough. But we made our own fun. We weren’t ever bored for long.”

“This makes more sense to me,” says Jonas, “I had a feeling there was more to you than what you have told me.”

“Jude, I can’t believe you haven’t been sharing your hilarious stories. I swear to God, he’s gotten up to the funniest things. There was never a dull moment when we were growing up.”

“Yeah, we had a lot of fun, alright. We were really stupid kids.”

“We’re still stupid kids, what are you on about?” Jen grabs Jonas’ arm again while she giggles into her sleeve. “Did you know Jude got suspended from school twice?”

“Twice?” He echoes. “For what?”

“Right, okay,” I protest. “One was for fighting. That was bad. I’m not proud of it.”

“And the other was for starting a fire in the boys’ toilets.”

I glance at Astrid, who has something related to a smile on her lips, but it’s clear she’s confused, a small line forming between her brows. “Why would someone do that?” She wonders. “Was it on purpose?”

“No, no! It was a total accident,” Jen lets out a squawk of laughter before launching into the story. “So, set the scene, boys’ toilets, 2004…”

With dirty plates cleared and the dishwasher humming, we take our conversation to the little nook of Astrid’s studio apartment that closest resembles a living room. Our bodies are strewn around on big, soft, thrift shop furniture, where we talk and laugh until our bellies hurt. Jen wipes tears of laugher with the front of her t-shirt, legs thrown across Jonas as he tells us stories from his teen years, of ghost chilli peppers, and dirty mop water and stolen costumes from the theatre, painting an image of himself more mischievous and silly than the sensible man I’ve met, who reads the political column in the newspaper over his morning coffee. 

We have lost track of time, and the candle wax is making castles at the bases of Astrid’s brass candelabras. She is sitting politely while we throw ourselves about, howling with laughter, no longer at the stories, but at how silly we are being. Finding hilarity in our own hysteria. Giddy from it. At some relevant point, Jen shows Jonas a picture on her phone of the drawing I made for her bathroom door, and the laughter starts again. He shoves his knuckles into his eyes to stop the tears. “You misspelt it,” he wheezes. “The word toilet. It was on purpose?”

“Of course, like, what, we can’t speak English?” 

Astrid sighs, and examines her bare foot, rested against the coffee table. I present my hand to her, and she drops hers into it so I can massage it with my thumb. She gives me a humourless smile that doesn’t touch her eyes. “Are you tired?” I murmur.

“Yes, a bit.”

“Astrid,” Jen says, “I was actually wondering if you have any stories from school, sorry! I should have asked you earlier. As in, what’s the funniest thing that ever happened to you?”

She hesitates. 

“Or anyone, really. It doesn’t have to be you specifically, just, like, something you heard.”

“I can’t think of anything.”

“Surely there’s something,” I insist, though it’s hard for me to imagine Astrid at school. I attempt to conjure her at a desk, being told what to do by a teacher, sitting in a cafeteria eating a packed lunch, but I can’t. I can see a girl doing it, some faceless blonde girl, but not Astrid. She’s too sophisticated to have ever been in a school, with sticky linoleum flooring and bathroom stalls studded with chewing gum. This woman wasn’t born, but materialised one day, and has been swanning around Europe being mesmerising ever since. 

“What kind of school did you go to?” Jen says. “Mixed? Like, boys and girls?”

“Yeah.”

“I feel like there’s always a story about that. Like, in our school, someone got fingered in the science lab.”

“Well, that’s just disgusting.”

“I agree with you. Foul.”

We’re all smiling at her, nodding in encouragement, but she looks mildly irritated. At last, she sighs. “Someone once threw an eraser into the teacher’s coffee mug.”

A pause. 

“And then?” Jonas says.

“And then it splashed, and the teacher got coffee on her shirt.”

“Oh! That’s funny!” Jen leaps in. “God, I used to get tea down my uniform all the time. And then you’re there walking around all day with a stained shirt. So embarrassing.”

Astrid frowns. “Okay, well, I just don’t think my school was like your schools. Nobody was doing anything disruptive. We just had our classes, talked to friends and we went home. I don’t know why someone would want to cause such a fuss. It annoys everybody when some students are being so problematic.”

“Yeah, we were fairly annoying alright,” I say. “I suppose it really shows up the differences between places like Ireland and Denmark, doesn’t it?”

“Yeah, I’m sure it was very nice to go to school there.” Jen gives her very best, warm smile, which Astrid does not return. I make a note to tell Jen it’s not personal later, that Astrid’s smiles are an extremely rare event. 

Astrid doesn't reply.

The smell of an extinguished candle drifts beneath my nose. I suddenly feel a bit awkward. 

“It’s kind of late.” I point out. ‘Maybe we should go.”

“Oh, yes, I’m tired,” she says. “I’d really like to go to bed.”

We get up and put on our coats, and as I bend to kiss her goodbye, she murmurs, “It was good of you to cook.”

“Anytime, love.”

“Good. You should do it more.”

“You think so?”

“Mm.”

“Then I will. Just tell me what you want and I'll make it.”

“I will.”

I kiss her cheek. “Goodnight. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Goodnight, Jude. Love you.”

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