For over half a century Geraint Jarman was a key figure in the ever-evolving culture of Wales, a tireless innovator and creative dynamo across multiple platforms as a singer, a song-writer, a poet, an actor, a TV producer and a vital source of inspiration to generation after generation who followed in his footsteps. His sudden death last year has left a huge vacuum in Welsh life that is going to be very difficult to fill.
Denbigh born and Rhuthun raised, Jarman’s first language was Welsh. His family moved to Cardiff when he was four, settling in Brook Street, Riverside, and in 1955 his enlightened parents sent him to Ysgol Bryntaf in Llandaf, Cardiff’s first Welsh medium primary school and only the third in all of Wales*. Being a Welsh-speaker in Cardiff back in the 1950s was a formative experience for Geraint: he had to face the ignorant bigotry of thoroughly anglicised monoglot Cardiffian children inculcated with the colonised mentality (Wales back then was the only country on the planet where open racism was routinely dished out – not to ‘foreigners’, but to the people of Wales). It was a steep learning curve that fostered a deep commitment to the Welsh language and compelled him to always perform and write in Welsh throughout his career.
A love of music was inculcated in Geraint by his Welshness, his parents, his school and his early participation with the Pontcanna children’s choir which led to his first appearances on TV when the choir regularly performed on the TWW programme Gwlad y Gân (broadcast on the whole ITV network as Land of Song), starring Ivor Emmanuel (1927-2007). By then he had moved on to secondary school at Cathays High, but he was far too bright to settle for the stultifying conformity of a typical Anglocentric education. In 1966, as a 16-year-old, he was inspired to follow his own path after witnessing newly electric Bob Dylan ditch his acoustic guitar and silence folk-purist hecklers at the Capitol in Queen Street. He soon dropped out of the system and began his stunningly adventurous career.
Hanging out with hippies in Cardiff’s coffee bars he wrote poetry, soaked up new ideas and fell in love with Cardiffian folk singer Heather Jones (they married in 1969 but later divorced; he married actor Nia Caron in 1987). Geraint began writing songs for Heather and then the couple met talented musician Meic Stevens from Solfach, back in Wales after far and wide wanderings, and the trio formed the irreverent folk-rock group Bara Menyn. The band released two EPs, played a few gigs and didn’t last very long, but in that time opened the floodgates for a Welsh music renaissance that has continued unabated to this day while the three members went on to become the ‘holy trinity’ of Welsh musicians: Stevens helped found what would become Wales’ biggest and most important record company – Sain – and established himself as an uncategorisable musical maestro; Jones’ beautiful, heartfelt songs have made her the nation’s cultural touchstone and herald; and Jarman evolved into the eclectic king of Welsh rock, pop, folk, new wave, reggae, ska, dub and hip hop. Always performing in Welsh, there was nothing he couldn’t do and no genre that was out of bounds as he effortlessly debunked and disproved the anti-Wales brigade’s hoary old accusations of insularity and parochialism.
Throughout the 1970s and on into the 21st century, settled in Roath, he worked with a wide range of Welsh musicians while broadening his knowledge and appreciation of every conceivable branch of contemporary music. In this prolific period he released nine albums on the Sain label, many with his own band Y Cynganeddwyr (named after the ancient and unique Welsh poetic form ‘Cynghanedd’ that uses metre and harmony to transmute words into lyrical layers that roll off the tongue). He created so much marvellous music it is impossible to list it all here: the box set released by Sain in 2008 called Atgof Fel Angor (Memory As an Anchor) is a good place to start. The sleeve notes, containing the names of the musicians Geraint Jarman collaborated with, read like a who’s who of every significant musician in Wales as well as a testament to his crucial role as a nurturer and mentor of young future talent.
At the same time he was developing his other skills. He published his first book of poetry, Eira Cariad, in 1970 and would go on to produce two more, Cerddi Alfred Street (1976) and Cerbyd Cydwybod (2012), all showcasing his rich lyricism, subversive humour and deep thoughtfulness. As an actor he made an impact in experimental fringe theatre, was the voice of Superted in S4C’s hugely popular children’s cartoon, and played telling parts in a number of TV programmes from comedies through to dramas. And as a TV producer and director he was behind S4C’s breakthrough music programme Fideo 9, a must-see in the 1990s that introduced pivotal bands such Ffa Coffi Pawb and Gorky’s Zygotic Mynci to viewers and put Wales in the vanguard of alternative, intelligent pop, while his championing of Catatonia in 1994 and his 1997 Super Furry Animals documentary Poptastic more or less embedded the ‘Cool Cymru’ phenomenon in public consciousness.
Geraint carried on performing live across Wales deep into the 21st century, never losing the vocal aptitude that could always transfix an audience, and continued making progressive, gripping albums bringing his final total of discs to an amazing 17. In 2011 his perceptive, entertaining autobiography, Twrw Jarman (Jarman’s Noise), was published. As he got older he inevitably slowed down, but only slightly, and his support of young musicians never wavered. But now, it grieves me to say, we have had to bid Hwyl Fawr and Nos Da to Geraint Jarman, a great Welsh artist.
*NOTE
Ysgol Bryntaf opened with just 19 pupils in 1949 as Ysgol Cymraeg Caerdydd in two rooms at Ninian Park School. By 1952 it had grown quickly to 100 pupils and was renamed Ysgol Bryntaf after relocating to Highfields in Llandaf. Today it is Ysgol Pencae with over 200 pupils, one of only 17 Welsh medium primary schools in Cardiff that exist after nearly 80 years. Cardiff didn’t have a Welsh medium secondary school at all until 1978 and currently there are a mere three, meaning learning Welsh cannot be enhanced and consolidated for 85% of pupils. All the Welsh medium schools, primary and secondary, are greatly over-subscribed and there are long waiting lists for Welsh medium schooling across the city. Cardiff’s Labour Council is always ready to promptly pander to whatever unwanted scheme corporate capitalism demands but scandalously reluctant to deliver what the vast majority of Cardiffians cry out for: the right of every pupil and every adult to speak their native language, and a bilingual future for the capital of Wales.
Yep. I went to Ysgol Bryntaf and was the target of racism towards Welsh speakers. In one street, locals threw stones at our school bus and when the bus company refused to drive down that particular street, we were made to walk to school (with locals standing outside their houses hurling abuse at us). There’s more to the story than this, but you get the drift.
Great article.