"He did, in 2001, go round to his sister’s house to watch a documentary about himself on the TV — he didn’t own a TV himself — but he didn’t enjoy it..."

"... and his only comment was that the music was too noisy. By this point he never listened to rock music, just to jazz and classical music, usually on the radio. He was financially secure — Dave Gilmour made sure that when compilations came out they always included some music from Barrett’s period in the group so he would receive royalties, even though Gilmour had no contact with him after 1975 — and he spent most of his time painting — he would take photos of the paintings when they were completed, and then burn the originals. There are many stories about those last few decades, but given how much he valued his privacy, it wouldn’t be right to share them. This is a history of rock music, and 1975 was the last time Roger Keith Barrett ever had anything to do with rock music voluntarily."

From Episode 157 of "A History of Rock Music in 500 Songs" — "'See Emily Play' by The Pink Floyd."

The destruction of art is a longstanding topic on this blog, and destroying one's own art is very special subsection of that topic. It's one thing to destroy artwork that, back when you made it, you'd intended to exist forever and perhaps hoped would be treasured by others, even long after your death. It's quite another thing to devote yourself to creating new work while intending all along to destroy it. 

It makes me think of Tibetan monks making a mandala out of sand and then destroying it: 

 

But sand is so perfectly chosen for this plan to create and then destroy. Barrett made paintings and, we're told, burned them. Were they oil on canvas? That seems very hard to burn. I have such objects and intend to destroy them, but I can't figure out the method of destruction. Burning — where I live — seems illegal and toxic. But I'm thinking Barrett painted on illustration board (a paper product), and these things would be pretty easy to burn — kindling in the fireplace.

Why photograph what you are bent on destroying? Perhaps he thought the photo was superior to the original. There are 2 — at least 2 — reasons for thinking this: 1. You might like the way the shapes and strokes merge into a finished image in the photograph, and 2. You might abhor the existence of a valuable object that people will fight for and buy and sell.

Writing that, I thought of another reason — 2 more reasons, actually: 3. You might find it awkward to have so many bulky, demanding objects around your living space, and you might feel crowded and tormented by this evidence of your ridiculous hubris and busywork, and photos could be tucked unobtrusively in little box, and 4. You don't want these things to survive you and to perplex and burden your heirs, but they might like to have that little box of mementos.

 

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