People at eisteddfod, isn't it? Thinking again about Wales made me try to recall all the things in life that connect me to the land of sheep and nice singing: My father’s mother was born of Welsh parents, which makes me, er, one eighth Welsh? Because my father’s family all lived in Liverpool, we often took day trips across the border into north Wales whenever we visited our Scouse ‘rellies’. When I was about fourteen, we spent a summer holiday in Llangollen. I remember visiting an eisteddfod, and thinking how weird and beautiful it was. I once learned to say (with a bad accent), the longest place name in the UK (it’s in Anglesey): Llanfairpwllgwyngyllgogerychwy rndrobwllllantysiliogogogoch . At a wedding party in the 1980s, I nearly got into a fight with a red-headed Welshman after...
Artist Philip Hartigan talks about art, interviews other artists, and more