'The past is a foreign country, they do things differently there.'
In paintings whose sources range from pre-war Baedekers; are snatched from post-war guidebooks, (and which signal the rupture with that past that a later cataclysm, AIDS wrought, with film locations in Jarman's sepulchral Dungeness), Harwood sounds an echo. The Last of an England we never really knew, presage of a country on the brink... an acrid sunset, smoke making our nostrils flare. Paintings steeped not in nostalgia but with an oracular vision of things to come... with Blake, Hawksmoor and Eliot at the seance, Harwood... starts the fire, paints our doom, takes a leap into the occultish, occluding dark.
'I had not known death had undone so many...'