In conversation with Ken Campbell, over the course of a convivial weekend spent walking the dogs, watching movies, painting doors and mooching……

K: If your show is a vegetable what is it?

G: Broccoli.

K: An animal?

G: Weasel

K: A piece of furniture?

G: A mirror

K: If your show is a load of liposucted fat, how much would it weigh?

G: 10 stone

K: And what would u do with it?

G: (Pause) throw it away

K: THROW IT AWAY? Then at the moment, u have no show.

G: Ah. (no.29)

………..

Ken, is sense-less the same as meaning-less? Can it make no sense but have meaning?

Yes, Graham. The two are not the same.

But Ken……

………..

K: Who is this Kierkegaard?

G: I am Kierkegaard.

K: And you’re King Solomon, as well?

G: No, he spoke to me. But I was never him.

K: How did he speak to u? Did he appear to u?

G: In my head at first. But then he would appear yes.

K: Where?

G: In France. In Prague. In the end, he appeared everywhere.

K: What, everyone was King Solomon to u?

G: No, but he appeared everywhere.

K: What did he say?

G: “Everything is vanity. All is vanity. Vanity”. It’s in his book.

K: He wrote a book?

G: Yes. He wrote Ecclesiastes. It’s in the bible. It’s the weirdest book in there. It stands out like a saw thumb. It’s the philosophical musings of a nihilist, who basically did just about everything there is to do – drugssexandrock’n’roll, power, money; you name it he had it, did it, shagged it. The whole caboodle. But he believed in God. He was the paradox. Just like Kierkegaard. It was Soren, after all, who said “the idea of philosophy is mediation – Christianity’s is the paradox”.

K: Yes, I’ve seen u swanning about with his book in your pocket. Are you actually reading that, or is it all part of the effect?

G: He-he-he. I’m reading it a lot at the moment. Like I said, I am Kierkegaard. I know this now. Obviously, he will be in Beat Freak.

K: Along with King Solomon?

G: Yes, he’ll be in it too. That was who you were going to play on the video screen.

K: NO VIDEO SCREENS, GRAHAM! I’VE TOLD U; THIS IS HIDING. And messing about. No. Just you.

G: And Solomon and Kierkegaard.

K: Yes. And those two.

(Pause)

G: Oh and Hamlet.

K: What?

G: Hamlet is going to be in it as well. He’s been a part of me for some time now. I shall do the “to be or not to be” speech as a rap, to a pumping drum and bass sample. The new school, as it were. I do it at parties from time to time.

K: Hmm.

G: Although my favourite play is The Tempest.

K: Not keen on it, as a rule, myself.

G: Have u been in it?

K: Yes. I was in Derrick Jarman’s film, The Tempest.

G: Wow. I’ve never seen that. What was it like?

K: It was good fun. Derrick Jarman was a sweet man. Good company.

G: Yeah. An artist. For sure. There’s a bit too much gay stuff in his work, for me sometimes, though. I mean Edward II is just too much. I was reading an extract from a John Boorman diary and he was writing about that film, 'cos he was a judge at the Venice film festival when it was first shown, and he said the same thing. But I liked Wittgenstein.

K: I don’t think I’ve seen that. Wasn’t overly impressed with Caravaggio.

G: Hmm, but Wittgenstein was interesting. Quite theatrical. Obviously done on a shoestring. But inventive. Who was in the Tempest film?

K: Well, the casting was interesting. They were all alternative “icons” of some form or other. Heathcote Williams played Prospero. Toyah Wilcox was his daughter. She was very good, I thought. (It also features Christopher Biggins. Interestingly.) You should see it.

G: Is it better than Greenaways’s effort?

K: That’s not the Tempest. It’s about Prospero.

G: Ah. I’ll order Jarman’s from HMV. They can get stuff like that. Cool.

K: And Spalding Grey.

G: Ah yes (no.6a). And Spalding Grey. Swimming to Cambodia. He’s the guy that did the one-man show about being in The Killing Fields, isn’t he? Isn't that the guy that got you into one-man shows?

K: Yes. After I watched it I started doing one-man shows.

G: Ok. Derrick Jarman’s The Tempest and Swimming to Cambodia.

(Pause)

Oh and maybe Malcolm McClaren will be in it as well. The show, that is.

K: What, are you him as well?

G: Er….I thought I was. Once. But I was wrong on that one.

K: Hmm.

………..

G: To know that you’re an arsehole.

K: Yes. That’s the start, at least. Book one covers that. There are, of course, some aresholes who will never know this. Part two deals with that.

G: Poor bastards.

K: Hmm.

…………

K: Why those three?

G: Emin is a narcissist. That is ultimately all. But she is pure narcissus. So she is interesting. Warhol was the same, but he got there before Emin, and truly made the statement his own, really. And Dali, well, I guess he was a narcissist, too, in the end. Signing blank canvases for $10,000? The conceit is the point, I guess.

Ken: So, aren’t you a narcissist too? You are the show, after all.

G: Ultimately, no. I am the show; I am my art, for sure. But my art is more than me.

K: Ah (no. 31, one of the rarer examples of “ah”, with a broad spectrum of meanings, covering anything from “is that so?” to being an abbreviation of ah-rse).What about the liposucted fat? What are you going to do with that?

G: I’m going to use it for punishment. I shall hold my breath and completely submerge myself in it for one minute. Naked, if required.

K: Yes. A better use for it, perhaps, than giving it away (said with the most unpleasant of sub-texts).

G: Hmm.

K: But all this is talk, Graham. Where are your deeds? You’re all trousers.

G: No, I’m not. It’s just that outside the Isle of Wight/Southampton not too many people have heard of me. Yet. But I’ve still been being the artist whilst they haven’t noticed. Not consistently, perhaps, granted. I got led astray form time to time, by my Malcolm McClaren fixation, for one. And going nuts, for another. But then again, I’ve made art out of those experiences so…..

K: …you’ve always been your art?

G: Exactly.

K: (after a mild attack of snorting and hrr-umphing) Ah (no.21). Yes, the Isle of Wight. Aren’t u something of a celebrity down there?

G: He-he-he. What does that word mean, anyway? You’d know better than me. Some people know me, or of me, I suppose, if that’s one meaning of it. But then that ain’t so difficult on the Island. It’s not a big place. Everyone’s a celebrity in that sense! Especially in Ventnor.

K: So what are you saying? That you’re happy that you’ve so far been undiscovered by the masses?

G: More and more, yes. Because I’ve had the chance to perfect my art (interrupted by more snorting and hrr-umphing from Ken). Besides, if anyone’s discovered me, it’s you. You found me. Remember the party at my house, when we were doing the Goggle Box and you turned up with …..

K: Yes. Of course I remember the party.

G: Well, then. Into the web. Into the web.

K: Hmm.

G: By the way, are they ever grateful?

K: Who?

G: The people you’ve helped.

K: No, generally speaking. That’s why I don’t help people anymore.

G: Good job you’re not helping me, then, innit? We’re just mates, hanging out, aren’t we?

K: Yes. We’re just mates hanging out. That’s much better.