Ian christmas 2017
Ian has been ailing for years and had achieved status hereabouts for being alive for so long... for an age he's been saying that the mornings were a great disappointment to him as he wanted to die in his sleep. His wish was finally granted. He didn't wake up on Friday.
Which is alright for him but family and friends are in shock -
Went to his place in the early evening to tell him that the otters were in the river - he was a big fan of otters - and saw that his meal of the day before had not been taken in. Radio Ballade was on loudly but no lights were on. Found him on the top floor, in bed, apparently asleep, peaceful and calm. But icy cold.
**************************************************************************
Nel took this photo of him in London 2000, before he moved here.
When we met, in '84, Ian was working for a local radio station whilst reading prospective plays for Greenwich Theatre and steering their spotlight. He had a chequered career, having left university prematurely in disgust at the system- specifically, having to read books written by his tutors. He worked in restaurant kitchens, Oddbins (where he gleaned his extensive knowledge of wines), a record store and for the Musicians Union.
All the time writing; he wrote for the music press for a while but stopped that on the very Ian grounds that he wouldn't work for the sort of paper that would publish his stuff; he wrote for an on-line journal, doing interviews of some very high powered people. He had a great technique, being something of a silent type who chose short and succinct questions. However, his re-writes of tiny details drove his editors mad and when the early internet boom ended he was released back into the wild.
He did a degree in IT (Information Technology) at Greenwich University (somewhat embarrassing as I taught on it. Cheeky so-and-so would put an apple on my desk before a class) All went well until he sent the vice-chancellor an outrageous fax and was send down for a year, once again shooting himself in the foot. The degree course he was on was the first of its type in the UK and everyone got brilliant results. Ians delay meant he just got a third, in his fourth year. Nothing to write home about. Certainly not a gateway to another future.
He ran gigs, many many gigs, in various places. Ingenious and brilliant, for the most part. It really was his metier; though one Guardian review I recall called him 'eclectic'. They were just jealous. Wonderful days. ( I remember on one dressing room door Ian fixing a message which read Trespassers will be laminated. Perhaps you had to be there....)
He loved nature and animals. He pined for the horse he worked with on Sark. We shared my wonderful dog Kevin in London for a while and in Esperaza he had daily care of Lily, a maniacal chien de loup. We both held her paws as she died a graceful death. He shared hens with us and would happily spend days around them.
In the early times he built my website which was quite a feather-in-the-cap for me, most artists didn't have one - he maintained it for many years, until his, ahem, 'life-style choices' took him over. He liked to drink half bottle of whisky a day and developed that theme with more alcohol and self-medications, following the death of his mother which was unexpected and a huge blow to him. They were close.
Ian was irrational but dead clever, lovable and infuriating, helpless yet curiously protected by everyone who knew him. He enriched many lives, often in unexpected ways. Throwing himself off cliffs into abyss after abyss wasn't sustainable, he did well to last as long as he did. Glad his passing was so painless.
*****************************************************************************
Can't leave this without thanking Ians neighbours. As if by magic, my trusty phone broke just before I found him. Les filles next door had to call the emergency services and sat with me the whole evening, as the Gendarmes arrived and then some more, then the doctor to write the death certificate, the hearse to take him away.
We sat outside - the police wouldn't let us in - and the sweet girls gave me a chair whilst they crouched on the pavement. They let me use their phones to call people, so the police - who were very through- didn't disturb his friends too much. Crystal put on some beautiful music which played down the impasse. Madame Delphine came out to offer her condolences and stayed to chat to the gathering officials. Bob came and went, offering support. A young pompier from the next street, who knew Ian from previous emergencies, came and stayed. Nora and her family offered drinks....
It wasn't a party but it was very comforting. Esperaza community is real. Thanks everyone xxx
*************************************************************************
Commiserations and love to Ians sisters, Angie and Helen, and their families.
Funeral at Crematorium in Trebes, Thurs 18th at 3.30
