Freddy first went to the United States in 1980: he had been invited to give a paper on the Camden Town Group at a conference at the Yale Centre for British Art. His plane went from Heathrow to New York, and from there he would have to take the train to Newhaven,Connecticut. He decided to go a week early so that he would be able to stay and explore NYC.

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A transit strike in NY meant that all accomodation had been taken by the big corporations for their staff. However a friend with connections found a hotel block where there was just one apartment available. This was on the 5th floor on 51st with a balcony.

Coming from England the apartment was awesome: bedrooms with two double beds in each, huge kitchen with the largest fridge imaginable, a living room with a door leading to a balcony with views of an office block skyscraper opposite, and 2nd Avenue.

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Freddy was electrified, and immediately went to the art shop to buy watercolours, pastels, pencils, paper and so on, and he started drawing nonstop excited and exhilarated by the colours that he saw everywhere. This was quite unexpected; he would get up at sunrise to start work,he would walk endlessly, stopping only for a meal break, when he would sketch, sitting at the table.

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He stayed at this apsrtment block for two or three weeks during the next couple of years, then discovered the exotic, decadent, infamous Chelsea Hotel on 23rd St. with its beautiful sunflower balconies: this was the temporary home of rock stars, poets, writers and of course artists. Dylan Thomas died there, the Sex Pistols had stayed there, Nancy was murdered there, the editor of the famous Interview Magazine favoured by Andy Warhol lived there. Bernard Childs lived there too with his wife Judith. Beautiful, elegant as well a scruffy dogs would stay there and walk the corridors. The staff knew exactly what the artists wanted: Freddy was able to spread his work and paints across the floor, and the cleaners would leave it exactly as it was - always safe with no fear of it being tidied up.

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There were two ancient and uncertain lifts. The entrance lobby was home to a collection of strange and wonderful paintings and sculptures.

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It was a joy.

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Freddy would take a suite there at the front with bathroom and kitchen and a balcony overlooking the street: the most famous YMCA celebrated in song was opposite. Always there were the sounds of New York.

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In the mid 80s it was quite dilapidated, but improvements were made every year. Jerry in the foyer got to know Freddy well, and when he saw him arrive he would greet him with his booming American accent: "Good to see you Freddy- how many paintings this time?"