Three cheers for the great Jarman, who spent a lifetime putting his head above the parapet in order to make sure that when most were still firmly in the closet, there was at least one openly gay man out there to put the wind up the establishment. Apart from the admirable though decidedly eccentric Quentin Crisp, who was not the role model I craved as a young man, Jarman was the sole raised voice of homosexual youth. Passionate, funny, articulate, clever, and drop-dead sexy, he was the one to whom so many of us looked for inspiration and guidance when finding our ways out of the shadows and into the sun. In those days of few, if any role models here in the UK, Jarman was our Messiah. (I think that people have forgotten how the homosexual perspective was not anywhere to be found before the early warriors of Gay Liberation took up arms. We gay men had to seek what we needed in a heterosexual world, as there was nothing for us that was not ‘coded’ because of the outsider, illegal status of active homosexuals. In the eyes of the establishment, we didn’t deserve to exist.) But Jarman rejoiced in his sexuality, praised the beauty of men, and forged an aesthetic we all recognised and could participate in. All gay men today who live their lives openly and in relative happiness, owe a debt of gratitude to Derek Jarman, whether they know it or not. (And I fear that many who have grown up in the years since his death will not know his name, even though the films and books are still out there to be found.) He was a great artist in the full, rounded sense. Everything he touched turned to art. And later, when he wasn’t able to make films any more, his hands and mecurial mind were not idle, as he created one of the most beautiful gardens of the twentieth century, conjuring it with limited financial resources (and limited energy too, for he was often not well by the time he started on it) from the shingle of the beach around his home, Prospect Cottage at Dungeness. But with Jarman, money wasn’t the limiting factor in his artistry, because his imagination and enthusiasm were limitless, transcending the constraints of low budgets, both with his films, and his sublime garden. Doff your caps, bow your heads and bend your knees before the great man. He changed our world, and he did it with boundless wit, humanity, artistry and love. Massive hugs and wholloping great juicy kisses for the peerless Derek Jarman. He was a fierce fighter for the cause, and I miss his presence in this world.

Most fully who he is…

I’ll come clean. I’m not familiar with Jarman. Clearly I should be but I blame a misspent adulthood.

I do think that being most fully who you are is essential to creating art that speaks to other people. It’s a paradox, but these days I’m finding that the more I delve into the ways in which I am odd, i.e. supposedly different from “everyone else,” the more I am connecting with an audience. None of us is ever really alone, until we hide who we are.