My birthday week was ripe with celebration. Two exhibitions opened and I read from A Humument at the Review Bookshop.

The day itself (once known as Empire Day) was crowned with a splendid dinner given by the Flowers Gallery for ninety guests. I was constantly reminded of those artistic feasts described by Roger Shattuck in The Banquet Years, a fine and favourite book.

Here is the new seventy-five year old surrounded by friends. Stephen Fry is making an elegant speech in the wry fry style. In the foreground is the profile of Nick Serota and betweeen him and me the presiding presence of Angela herself. It was at her little upstairs gallery in Lisle Street that I had my first solo show over forty years ago.

 

This snapshot taken by Mimi Lipton captures a corner of the genial scene and much of its atmosphere.