On Roy Harper
And the town label makers stare down with their gallery eyes
And point with computer stained fingers each time you arise
To the rules and the codes and the system that keeps them in chains
Which is where they belong with no poems no love and no brains
- from McGoohan's Blues
In February 2012 I was privileged to catch Richard Grayson's intriguing Magpie Index at the friendly and inspiring Matt's Gallery.
We were among the privileged 2500 or so watching Roy belatedly celebrate his 70th birthday in a special concert at the Royal Festival Hall in London on 5th November 2011. A marvellous event, with Roy on top form, as were his special guests, his son Nick Harper, Joanna Newsom and Jimmy Page. A sublime evening for us...a view shared by the critics, see e.g. Evening Standard and Telegraph 5-star reviews.
Prior to this event, I saw Roy perform most recently in Brussels on my birthday, 14th May 2010. Down the years I have seen him perform so many times and followed his work and life far more closely than most people I know personally. Roy's is a truly unique poetic talent, for our time and probably for many ages to come.
For all his creative passion, Roy remains wonderfully pastoral, as this December 2010 photo, taken 50 yards from his house in Ireland, testifies...
So Roy seems happy in Ireland now - and we're happy for him - but where are the other contemporary poets who can evoke the essence of England like this....
And we dreamt of all the loves we'd known
And we never never thought of the sorrow
With forelocks wound on the primrose down
In the wood by the empty long barrow
- from Commune, Roy Harper
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