Edgar Allen Poe. age 40.
Tim Buckley
Nick Drake
Phil Ochs
I think he was on the threshold of becoming a great actor; he certainly exhibited enormous potential. I’m just not certain how I feel about actors being classified as artists in general. Which is not to say that actors aren’t capable of bringing astonishing depth or nuance to a character; it may just be my own bias at play here.
The poet Hart Crane, at age 32.
I think there is a large portion of actors who look at it as a job, do exactly what the director or script supervisor tells them to do - no more, no less - and dream of landing a gig on the OC, and it would be hard to make a case that they are artists. On the other hand, there are the Ian McKellans and Laurence Oliviers of the world, who would be almost impossible to make a case against their credentials as artists. I would probably agree with you that River Phoenix was right there on the cusp.
Phil Lynott, only 36. He may not have been the best musician in the world, but damn he could write some kick ass songs. When I was in Dublin in November someone had stolen the hand and bass off the statue, jerks.
Richard Farina. After having a novel published and releasing an album with his wife Mimi Baez, the man had everything, Then he dies in a motorcycle crash on Mimi’s 21st Birthday. He was also friends with Thomas Pynchon (he wrote a song called “V”). Richard could write novels, lyrics, and music, sing, play the dulcimer, and was an essential part of the early 1960’s NYC folk scene.
I was reading "Positively 4th Street’ yesterday–a good read about Joan & Bob & Dick & Mimi.