The wonderful artist, Tony Urquhart, died a few days ago on January 26th. He was 87. Painter, sculptor, draftsman, he had a major influence on the many artists of his generation and younger. I admired what he did and loved in particular his drawings. I can’t think of anyone else of our time who drew with his depth and skill. To walk by some of those ink drawings, gouache and watercolours is one of my daily pleasures. A winter vineyard, the pruned vines looking like victims of war. A haunting winter forest. An eerie row of family vaults in the Buenos Aires graveyard where Eva Perón is buried. Pagan spirit heads once thrown into the headwater of a river near Dijon in France, their force still alive, fully captured by Tony. A large glass doored cupboard filled with bottled food from an imaginary store, waiting for you to open it. So sad that Tony is gone. He made an enormous contribution and was much loved. All my condolences to Jane.